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 . . .
