The Perfect Gentleman

Being rather tall his gait was brisk
due to such miserable weather
the cobbled streets were almost deserted
still, a few drunken sops braved the
bone chilling mist and rain
with loose women clinging to their arms
hoping to waylay and then get paid.

He smiled
but it was detached, never
reaching the coldness of his eyes

there…

on the corner he espied her.
O, how he loved the beauty of this game
all she had to do was turn and leave
and she’d be safe
but she wouldn’t
She would see that smile with
pupil paper money signs
even as my hand is reaching
for the blade.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo      *All rights reserved

*This is loosely based on that notorious Victorian Murderer (monster) Jack the Ripper

Shared with With Real Toads Kerry’s Wednesday Challenge ~ The Unreliable Narrator
Three Word Wednesday Brisk, Detached, Miserable
Poetry Jam A poetic monster mash