In the unlit alcove she stood patiently.

The pale hand gripping the pommel of a dagger, concealed beneath a lumpy sackcloth robe; so slender and refined. The wait was serene; for if you are in haste, you are completing the task poorly. Words from her teacher all those years ago.

Remember Emily; in serenity one finds comfort, but do not mistake comfort for an opportunity to laze. Peace within creates a storm that you unleash at your behest, but without discipline resides the void.

As she plunged the knife into the back of the man, Emily thought of peaceful things.

©DJA 2016



From the Compendium of One Hundred Word Stories