Read by David Vickery
The house nestles on the cliff-side, tucked between ocean and pine forest. John stands on the doorstep, hands in pockets, watching the black shape crossing the sand far below. The shape moves closer, takes the form of a man.
For the first time in years, John craves a cigarette – if only to stop his teeth from chattering. The sun climbs in the sky but the sweat of exertion is cooling rapidly on John’s skin. He is too old. He shouldn’t have volunteered. He remembers the look that passed between his superiors, but in the end they’d all agreed.
It was John’s job to finish it.