Write a passage in which somebody creeps up on someone else, as if you were describing a sequence of shots in an old silent movie.
The rain poured hard against the cobbled street, muffling my footsteps. But still, I held my breath. The moon lit up my path, a full moon that glinted down the narrow street.
He was stood beneath a lamp post, struggling to light his damp cigarette.
10 more steps and I would be upon him.
He resorted to lighting his cigarette beneath his long trench coat.
I drew my knife from under my coat, perfectly weighted, cold and hard.
His cigarette lighter flickered into life, reflecting off the puddles at my feet.
I heard him curse under his breath.
He discarded the damp cigarette and reached for a fresh one from his enameled cigarette container. He had misplaced the lighter and was now patting his body down, searching for it.
“Need a light?” I said as I stuck the knife between his ribs.