(Author's Note - I actually wrote this some years ago but it seemed to fit the prompt...

Drabble: word count exactly 100, not counting this note)

I stopped for the traffic lights and glanced down at the automatic weapon lying on the seat next to me. Was I going to use it? I still hadn't decided. I pictured the sanctimonious look on Havers' face as he told me I'd been let go, that the new owner wanted someone younger. Havers deserved to die, but was I a killer?

There was an icecream truck parked on the other side of the crossing. The contrast between such innocent pleasure and my thoughts, shocked me. I palmed a coin. Heads, he dies today...

I drove away, eating my icecream.