recurring dream

the recurring dream: s. walks alone towards his car. it's night fall, and he's leaving his office to finally go home after one day full of great deeds. he walks in the quiet solitude of the parking lot unaware of my presence, in some nearby rooftop, with my precious fully automatic sniper rifle. and, as s. tries to open the door, i open fire. one shot shattering the windshield. two shots on the tires, precise and deadly. some more shots at the window glasses - but not one, not a single one at him. no, he wasn't meant to die in this treacherous assault. he would be left there, lying on the floor, shaking like an autumn leaf, too affraid to even cry for help while i packed my gun and went home, whistling a joyful song to the night's cold air.

and then i wake up. it's so sad.