The hustle and bustle
Lunch is in full swing
Voices buzz together
The honeybees in a hive.

The queen rules her populace
with an iron fist of authority
pretty, willing faces
drink in her poisons with fervor.

Empty pupils gaze from outside
looking through the window
that separates the building
from the wilderness of outside.

Feet stand solid and hands twitch
fondling the weight in heavy pockets
judging the heaviness of gazes
watching just outside of the glass.

Breaths are heavy as she removes it
the cool blackness of her end
muzzle sharp against her forehead
tiny fingers clutching the trigger.

Her death will be a show
fireworks of red against the pavement
colors draining like a stream
claret, crimson, and scarlet.

Manic giggles impede her
lungs shaking with contractions
and, with a full audience
a trigger is pulled... and *silence