Death

         The man walked out of the large office building with his briefcase in one hand and his grey suit jacket slung carelessly over his shoulder. His tie hung loosely from his neck as he approached his black BMW. It was Friday night and he was heading home, on time, to his wife and children. As he tossed his case and jacket on to the passenger seat he heard someone come up behind him and felt a cold metal cylinder pressed into the back of his head. Before he could say anything to his assailant the world went black and with a spray of red across the roof of the BMW he fell to the ground, unmoving.

         She awoke with a start at the banging on the front door. If he kept this up her husband would wake the children – again. Having most likely left his keys at the office after a long night he had once again missed dinner and left all the parenting duties to her. As she sleepily approached the front door she braced herself to give him a proper earful. Her hand turned the doorknob and she swung the door open violently with a scowl painted on her face to reveal two solemn looking police officers. Her heart sank as her brain jumped to the inevitable conclusion – her John was dead.