He was leaning nonchalantly against the bus stop pretending to flick his finger across his iPad as if reading a book or page of a website. Nobody took any notice of him. He watched him as he walked out of the office block. He'd been watching him for two weeks. Each victim was targeted carefully and this guy was no different. He watched the guy turn into the street and down the side alley to his car park.

He flipped the cover onto his iPad and sauntered casually but swiftly across the street. He had parked his car just past the entrance to the car park. He had time to get in and start the engine before Mr Rosendale had reached his car.

Mr Rosendale was an SVP at a typically cliched advertising agency. He was married to Susan, his loving wife and they had two beautiful teenage children. There was no doubt Mr Rosendale had the perfect life. A high flying executive job and a wonderful family. So why did he want to risk all that?

He sat in his car, the engine on tick over as he watched Mr Rosedale get into his Mercedes Benz.

"Are you a gambling man, Mr R?" He said out loud as he watched the Mercedes ease forward as Mr Rosendale drove out of his space towards the exit.

He had watched Mr R do this each week day night. He walked out of his office, into his car and drove the 23.6 miles home to his wife and two children. Only on Wednesday and Thursday did his routine change. Wednesday and Thursday were his "Special" evenings. Evening's his beautiful wife knew nothing about. She thought he was out with clients.

Well that is until now. This was going to be Mr Rosendale's last ever Tuesday.

It's the title of a book I wanted to write and may go back to one day.

I often wonder what happens when we die. Do we go somewhere else? Does Heaven really exist? Does Hell really exist? Do we go anywhere at all or does life just stop when we die and we cease to be?

These and many more are questions I ask myself and so a few years age I decided to write a book called "The Day I Died".

I imagined that when we died we went to a place "up there" where we could see our loved ones again. We could also look down and watch over those loved ones who were still alive.

But it all got too Sci-fi with clever digital devices and trying to explain who a soul could exist and move around without a physical body was quite tricky. Where would we live and hang out? A house? A living station?! How could I look down and watch over my living family? Through some weird flat screen interface.

As I say, I may return to it one day.

If I write a bunch I feel incredibly energised and can't stop. It's a wonderful feeling. To help me get in that flow I always read the last few chapters I wrote last time. This helps me get into character and feel the fabric of the story. Then I flex my fingers and begin to write a bunch.