Concise.

This actually got published: In "Ninety-Nine: The Best Short Writing of Tasmanian Secondary College Students."

He just wishes the rain would stop.

They've been standing here for hours, like bloody penguins in their suits, sobbing like it's the end of the world.

They're pathetic, he thinks bitterly, as he flicks the end of his cigarette, watching the ash disolve into nothing as it's hit by the rain. The rookie glares at him through red-ringed eyes, and he looks back down, staring blankly at the grave of their once-boss.

The rain beats down heavier than before, plastering his hair to the side of his neck, as he silently contemplates the dry-cleaning bill for his suit.