“Eve, what do you think of the suspect?” A man in his early thirties with brown hair asked calmly to a woman who was only a few years younger. The frame of his glasses gleamed when light hit it. He reflexively turned away from the source of the radiance. The night was young.
“If I were to paint him, gray, perhaps? Why are you asking me this, Harrison?” Eve, the wavy blonde girl, gave a chuckle as she nudged her partner with her elbow as they left shoes marks on the thin snow. As if their winter coats were not enough, they hugged themselves to keep their warmth as they proceeded into an alley which was filled with crates which were perfect to hide.
0 Comments
|
AuthorI am an amateur author and this is my web where i will spread my stories in the vast world called internet. Nice to meet you everyone! Archives
January 2018
|