"Marilyn"

by Lauren Caputi

It was a rainy Thursday night and the city had, indeed, gone to sleep. Puddles collected in the streets as drops dripped from the gutters. Dismal was the best way to put it.



Hector sat in front of the fireplace, whiskey in hand. The golden rim of the glass gleamed against the dancing embers he had stoked. His breath was slow, controlled. A single ice cube clinked as he swirled his libation. He needed it. Hector knew this day was coming, but he wasn’t ready. Who could ever be ready for murder? He took one last slug and grimaced before pulling on a heavy coat, flipping up the hood to obscure his face from any wandering eye.

He didn’t have far to go. But with each step closer, the gravel crunched louder and louder under his boots. If only he could…no. He shook his head, clenching his teeth as he tried to focus on his task. He knew from the beginning what he was getting himself into.





“Excuse me sir, are you looking to buy?” He nodded as his eyes traveled across the assorted goods. The merchant had a thick black mustache and an accent Hector couldn’t quite place. “See anything you like?” Hector couldn’t stop himself as his eyes immediately flew to the female breasts before him. So plump and voluptuous. He was new to the business and looking for his first girl. “May I suggest this little beauty. Name’s Marilyn.” Their eyes met. She was young and beautiful. “Quite the spring chicken, ain’t she?” Shapely thighs, ample bosom. Yes, he thought, she’d be more than good enough. Hector inquired, “How much?”