Weekly Writing – March 9 2024

Killing people for a living wasn’t noble, of course. He’d met a few who made the same living and tried to insist it was, and the last person they usually ended up killing was themselves. Maybe it seemed like the only noble thing to do in the end.
No, it was an ugly job that wouldn’t exist in a perfect world. But, like so many ugly jobs, that didn’t change the fact it existed now. Didn’t change the fact it would continue existing as long as the world continued being full of imperfect people who wanted to cash in an inheritance or punish a cheating ex-husband with more than alimony or just couldn’t stand to live on the same planet as each other.
Every ugly job needed people with the stomach to do it anyways. He at least didn’t make it any uglier than it had to be. Killed them in their sleep if he could. Everyone said that was how they’d want to go, didn’t they? Drifting off with another day, a whole life, of possibilities ahead of them and just never waking up.
The world was a better place for him doing that job, rather than someone with a dull knife and dollar signs in their eyes. If the world ever somehow beat the odds and became perfect, maybe he would take that last noble job. Until then, he would slip a needle into a vein or hands around a throat and watch as the peace already on someone’s sleeping face just became permanent.