The Thief looked at the knife in the torchlight. He hated the thing, and his need to carry it.
His profession, performed with proper care and skill, shouldn’t require a brutal edge. Any fool could use force. He employed more subtle tools. Stealth, misdirection, silence and subterfuge were more his style. But sometimes a job went went wrong. Sometimes the mark was sharper than that looked. Sometimes it was smarter to walk away.
But he remembered who he was doing this for, and why. He gripped the knife and stepped back into the shadows, waiting for his chance to strike.

“Knife 8” by ~Brenda-Starr~ is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2025 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0