La Fin Du Monde

J___ pulled back the curtains and gazed out the window of his 19th floor room onto the wintry streets of Montreal.

"Not the best weather for the job" he murmured. He was alone in the room.

Within an hour he was out and walking those streets, searching. Within two he had accomplished his goal, and was back at the hotel enjoying maple-drenched crepes, the chill ebbing, replaced by warmth and the satisfaction of his work.

He knew he would have to go out again. In this city he had been assigned six 'goals' and this morning's accomplishment marked completion of only the second. But it was enough for now. Enough to let him savor his crepes and an uncharacteristic beverage for so early in the day. A new favorite: La Fin Du Monde.

A fitting name, he thought, and smiled as he drank.