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Bull’s Eye

People come and go; live and die; spend their moments; face their destinies and play their stories_ but places stay intact, better than their lives altogether. It was a fine day at the welcome park of Northridge; the sun had risen for another day to glow overheads and melting snow. The angiosperms had opened their arms and coffee shops had widespread their sheds. “Open” plates behind shops were swinging slowly as people passed by; liquor poured into burning hearts in front of bartenders and fumes of broken thoughts kept appearing in eyes of different colors.
It was the time earlier than rush hours; Gary slickly dried crystal glasses with a clean cloth and let the world drift in front of him.
“One coffee, please… Black and sugar-free” A dominant male voice stimulated his professional hands to get into action. He casually looked at the stranger and assured him of his good service.
Like others, he continuously stared at the TV.
“According to Northridge Police Force, Rock Cooper is one the greatest drug cartel in the city” A neat young anchor told the news with a sweet light smile on her lips. Half the men stared at her features instead of paying attention to the news.
“Rock Cooper is being held in the custody under strict supervision” The anchor continued.
The stranger smoothly pulled the coffee cup towards him and held back his yawn while changing his focus from the TV.
“What is this news about? Seems like this city police has quite an upper hand over criminals” The stranger sipped slowly after finishing his comment.
“Not quite a whole” Gary carelessly answered; he seemed more interested in drying up the remaining glasses.
“She says ‘the greatest drug cartel’… hah! Grand Valley isn’t any way like that. Mountain thieves are rock hard, man!”
“So, you came from there. It is mountains, but greener than Northridge. But yea, I get it what you trying to say.” Gary tried to stay as sweet in tone as he could.
Silence followed after a slight nod from the stranger. Gary added:
“This Cooper boy ain’t the greatest, they say. People of Northridge believe there is a mastermind behind such BUSTABLE common black sheep.” Gary’s hands stopped for a while and his tone became more secretive. “Problem is; the real black sheep aren’t very black here.”
“ha ha… good one… yet they act like its ultimate victory”
“Nevaa believe in those cops sirens here. They shout more only and reason less. When you go in there the damn city, you should only pay attention if a shadow starts chasing ya, or your bag becomes heavy”
“But nobody knows me here” The stranger seemed confused and taken a back.
“There is a legend that runs in here. The police don’t open that subject but the leader of this drug crime network is still out there…” Gary nearly whispered, “Not under the ground but right there out in the streets…
They say… He is holding a power of injecting deadly powders into bags of street walkers”
“How does he do that” The stranger’s eyes widened.
“Simple… injecting needles and a pro skill in darting rightly” Gary, got hold of few other empty dishes and slide them to the sink.
“How do you know? People must have met him… Please take the cash here.” The stranger anxiously pulled back his chair after putting the bill on the bar table, held his bag tightly and pressed it carefully against him.
“Yea people talk but many believe that’s a supernatural tale.
Sure mister, have a good day” Gary waved at the leaving stranger from distance.
As he reached the main door, he turned to inform Gary: “Oh and the tip is there… on the wall” he pointed with a hand, smiled and was gone before Gary could pick up a receiver in emergency.
A note of 50$ was pinned by a dart needle into an eye of a woman’s poster.

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