The man smiled at his new self in the hall mirror. ‘Jason Carter,’ he thought. ‘I’m Jason Carter. I’ve got to remember that’s my name, now. I can’t slip up on a simple thing like my name. There’s a lot to remember; new name, Social Security number, town, state, starting a new job next week. I’ve got a whole new life ahead of me. Got rid of my moustache, bleached my hair. Jason Carter, that’s me.’

The doorbell interrupted his appraisal. ‘Now who can that be?’ “Yeah, who is it?”

“Mailman, sir. You’ve got mail, but you’ll have to sign for it. It’s registered.”

“Okay.” He opened the door.

“Just sign here, sir. Actually, it’s a package.”

He signed the form and handed it over to the man in blue. The mailman looked at it, then looked closely at the blonde man's features. He put his hand in the mailbag and pulled out a cylindrical parcel, wrapped in brown paper. The muzzle of a silencer protruded slightly. The mailman smiled.

“You signed the name wrong, pal. It should be Johnny Costello, huh? Remember Don Vittorio? He told me to say, ‘ciao, baby!’”

Want to comment on this Flash Fiction? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Flash Fiction and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...