Betty sipped her coffee hot

And watched the scene below

It was a busy market day

And the crowd was all aglow.

 

Children were laughing and running

Between the shopping stalls.

Mothers with prams were trying

To manoeuvre makeshift walls.

 

Nearby long-suffering fathers

Trying to look so cool.

Or at the very least

Not appear the fool.

 

Betty could see the thieves

Trying to work the crowd

They tried to be unnoticed

Their work was not allowed.

 

Then the Workers of the Night

Came looking for a score.

It looked like easy pickings

As they peaked around a door.

 

Now Betty had a code

That she followed to a T

She could not bring herself

To hurt a child you see.

 

So she would stay away

From the mothers that were there

The fathers on the other hand

Who said life was fair?

 

Though it might be easy

But it really was a thought

Men could be the target

She wondered if she ought.

 

She was getting bored.

Somebody had to die.

Should they be deserving

Or one who caught her eye?

 

The sun was setting for the night

Soon the light would dim

Work was needed to be done

It’s not a silly whim.

 

She heaved a sigh, and flexed her arms

And prepared to take a life.

Perhaps she’d use some poison

Or perhaps just with a knife . . .

 

 

Chapter One . . .