Cupping his hand to keep the lit match safe from the wind, Karl held the flame up to Gert's cigarette. Gert's irritating face winced, and sucked at the filter, then turned away without any thanks, and blew out the stream of poison. The night was cold, and the water below could be heard, lapping against the bridge. All the planning had led to this moment; Karl would never get another chance like this. He and Gert stood somewhere on the long dark bridge, against its small wall. The far-off street light would be the only witness. The invisible water below extinguished the cigarette.