Bang Bang

The rain was overwhelming. Falling in torrential outpours, as if angry at something, or someone. The sky was dark, cloudy, in the middle of the day, the absence of the cheery sun visible in the eyes and on the faces of the people hurrying along, downcast, looking down. Clutching their ponchos closer to their chests, protecting their most vital organ - subconsciously, even though any logical person would know that the rain could not penetrate the walls of skin, muscle, blood and bone surrounding the four atrium of the heart.

The earth was soaking up the waters from the heavens very fast, almost as fast as they fell. Mother earth was thirsty. The heat wave preceding this momentary respite, for it would be brief, had been long and parching. Earth was quenching her thirst almost as fast as the water fell, and yet there were still pools of it forming. Puddles rippling as more soldiers came to join the droplet army. Strength in numbers. Water was wading down the walkway. Over gravel, into the sewers, rivulets and and their obese cousins, streams, forming.

The cool air tasted of sorrow and relief.

A portly man hurried by best he could, limping on one foot, rotund belly, porter hat, thick round glasses, head down demurely. He had no aim, he was just hurrying around the streets. He stopped, hesitated, unsure whether he should turn around and go back, it was raining very hard, but this might be the only opportunity he could get. They had decided that he would do it now.

He was nervous, teeth chattering, though that could have been from the cold. His clothes hung thick and heavy around him, drenched in water, shedding some of it with every movement.

He almost turned around, but changed his mind, and walked down to the square. That was where, he had been told, where, they had decided on, in case of emergency. This was a dire situation. The rain was vicious, he hadn't expected it would rain this much. The weather forecasters had not expected that it would rain this much. And they were rarely wrong. He hurried along.

A shadow stood as he passed by, a dark figure standing tall, by an alley. The figure saw the man hurry down the road, and walked away.

The stout man rushed down to the square, it was nearly empty. Should be easy to find what he was looking for here. The rain poured strong and hard, showed no intention of letting out any time soon.

His glasses were foggy, covered in moisture. He took them off. Hung them backside out in the pocket that usually held his pencil and calculator. 

There was a couple standing by a bus stop, looking miserable. He rushed towards them. The man was tall, blond haired, good looking, the woman covered in so many layers, he couldn't tell what she looked like. He approached them, they looked over at him, the man’s face lit up, another human. He could tell they had just had a fight by the way they were standing next to each other, rigid, posture facing away from one another.

The gruff voice seemed to come from somewhere else, deep, gravelly, they just stood in shock and stared.

“Give me your money.” a gun accompanied the words, as if to convey the seriousness of his tone.

Thunder lit up the sky.

They handed over everything they had, hands shaking and shivering.

Bang. bang.

The newspapers read: “TWO PEOPLE DEAD AT BUS STOP. DISGRACED ACCOUNTANT ACCUSED.”