The man loads the sniper rifle and places it on the window ledge of his sixth floor apartment. He looks through the scope, making the cross-hairs hover over a young couple on the far end of the street.
They walk hand in hand and laugh about something. Near them, a homeless man sleeps on a bench. With his finger on the trigger, the gunman holds his breath.
One, two. Three.
Through the telescopic sight he spots a bystander who, startled by the gunfire, drops his groceries and runs across the road into incoming traffic.
Four. Five, six, seven.
The man releases the trigger and exhales. Reaching into the side pocket of his anorak, he takes out a chocolate bar and sits on the carpeted floor with his legs crossed. He takes his time chewing as the panic spreads outside.
A minute later, he is ready for something different. Resting against the wall, the machine gun winks at him.