Literature
The True Shot
On the stone pavement of a busy street, a man was lying facedown in a pool of blood. The man was well dressed, in a black suit and a formal tie and shiny black shoes. Not far from where the man was lying, a custom-made bullet was embedded in the pavement. The man's name was Richard Wilkins. He was an accountant, and he had been on his way back to work from his lunch break, where he had met with his girlfriend, Michelle. The man wasn't moving or showing any signs of life, most probably because the connection between his head and his spine had been severed by a high-caliber, custom-made steel bullet.
Standing around the man were a crowd of onl