Life is to be treasured son. The birds in the sky, the ants on the ground, everything has a purpose in this world. Never forget that.   

                   - Steve Winslow

*Swish*

"It'd be so simple, just a small, insignificant push." The thought came to me like an epiphany. Echoing throughout my mind, gaining volume and presence with every word. " We are in the camera's blindspot, people know she is clumsy. There wouldn't be any suspicion on us."  I take a deep breath, trying desperately to slow my rapidly increasing heartbeat. 

Rachel continues to absent-mindedly sweep the top of the rickety staircase, bopping her sand-blonde ponytail to and fro to an invisible rhythm. I had told Bob to refurbish the steps. That they were a safety hazard. That someone would get hurt eventually.

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*Swish*

"How many times has she slipped on these steps already these past months? We were cleaning out the supply closet when we heard a yelp and a rumbling noise. We found her at the bottom of the stairs and immediately called the ambulance. Nobody would think twice.

*Swish* 

I swallowed heavily, a thin bead of sweat running down the back of my neck as I stared unblinking at her. My hands clenched hard enough to whiten my knuckles. Things had been going so smoothly at this job, just dust the antiques and make sure nobody steals anything. A glorified janitor. Easy. Mindless. Simple. It hadn't been this bad in months. Just take a deep breath and calm down.

*Swish* 

My hand was already raised and reaching for her back before I even realized it. Faintly trembling yet still pressing onward, to finally pacify that incessent grinding that mills away at my mind whenever I allow my attention to slip. Close, close enough to smell the flowery scent of her hair. Close enough to give that infinitely powerful, yet so insignificant push. 

*Swish* 

"It's... It's so easy." Two voices said with one.