Final Goodbye
Some rivalries never end, they just wait till the right moment.
Photo by Mateusz Butkiewicz on Unsplash
Retirement was supposed to be relaxing.
Which is why he was surprised to recognise the man in a dark hat walking towards him.
The man sat on a chair across the table and tipped his hat, “Henry.”
The signs of age were obvious on his face.
Thin grey hair bristling under the hat. More wrinkles than last he’d seen him, through a rifle scope.
Henry smiled, no doubt he looked the same, “Walter, nice to see you again.”
Henry gestured at two glasses on the table.
“Care for some water?” he asked, filling the glasses without waiting for a response.
Walter raised an eyebrow.
Henry sighed and drank from one of the glasses.
Walter smirked, “Never can be too careful.” He took a sip from the other glass.
Henry inhaled sharply as a pain shot up his leg.
He glanced under the table.
A short metallic tip poked through his trousers.
“Really Walter, after all these years, you choose a
poison dart?”
Walter took off his hat and wiped his brow, “Nothing wrong with the classics.”
“True,” Replied Henry, grinning, “That’s why I did the same.”
Walter looked at the glass in front of him, then pointed at the glass Henry had drunk from, “But…”
“It was already in the glass.”
Walter nodded, “Clever. Well, it’s been a good run Henry.”
“And you Walter.”
