‘Vendetta, film noir’ by Ahmed Nader

I stood there, alone, cold and numb, with my hands in the pockets of my coat and my eyes to the ground. A thick fog rolled down the street where I stood, carrying the stench of the sea with it. Light flickered from the lamp post shining over me, sometimes on and others off, throwing dancing silhouettes on the cracked asphalt. I took out a smoke and lit it with the last match I had, took a few puffs then threw the match at a puddle and it went ablaze. The fire crept little by little towards her house, I watched the flames eating up the line of fuel I drew, twirling, angry. The fire went up the stairs and in through the front door, the image of her body burning made me smile. She cheated. I killed her, and now she’s burning. Satisfied with my handy work, I fixed my fedora, turned around and walked away.

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About Ahmed Gretly

Ahmed Nader Gretly. Construction/Site Engineer, fiction writer, poet, psychopath, researcher, a book addict, and a daydreamer from Cairo, Egypt. Currently doing Construction Project Management, MSc, at Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh.
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