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Hmm. I’ll bring it around and hope that someone else will join us. @dekreel @jenwriter17

@dragongeek In spite of the earplugs she wore, the assassin’s ears rang as her quarry, a fat-middle aged man, fell off the ledge of the inside of the clock tower. It was a very close shot into the Adam’s apple of the man, his sweat staining the undersides of his gray T-shirt. The fat rippled and jiggled as it hit the floor, an expression of peace on his face as his lifeless arms spread wide.

Revolted, the woman uncoiled like a snake from her broad stance, removing the earplugs from her ears, a move she regretted as the clock finished tolling eleven. Her black clothing made her appear to fit the backdrop of reversed clock hands and roman numerals, the savage minute hand broken by the glow of her auburn hair. Ignoring the pain and hoping the loud noise of the clock would cover the sound of the shot, she holstered her weapon and began making her way down the stairs.

Next: The seagull flew over the levee, ignoring the city that relied on the levee for its only means of protection from rising water.