Cold, Dark, and the Color of Red
Tony, was a slight middle aged man. Which no one would assume anything unusual about. He wore, exclusively, a grey trench coat, with a brown bowlers hat. He had been told on more than one occasion that the two did not match, but that did little to stem his reliance on the familiar.
On this night however amidst the rain, and the shadows of the night, it all looked black. Most every night his clothes looked black. Something about the street lights and the city itself, made everything darker.
Darker was certinally something Tony was getting more and more used to. Everything was dark now.
As he stepped onto the curb, he splashed through a puddle, the water slopped as Tony made his way down the dark street.
As Tony came around the corner he saw some men running.
"Go ahead and run." He thought, not paying much attention the the flashing lights as they bounced off the windows of the dimly lit street.
It was at the end of that street, opposite of the police and the runners, where he found what he had been looking for. A small metallic square hung on a hand rail with a coat hanger.
On this night however amidst the rain, and the shadows of the night, it all looked black. Most every night his clothes looked black. Something about the street lights and the city itself, made everything darker.
Darker was certinally something Tony was getting more and more used to. Everything was dark now.
As he stepped onto the curb, he splashed through a puddle, the water slopped as Tony made his way down the dark street.
As Tony came around the corner he saw some men running.
"Go ahead and run." He thought, not paying much attention the the flashing lights as they bounced off the windows of the dimly lit street.
It was at the end of that street, opposite of the police and the runners, where he found what he had been looking for. A small metallic square hung on a hand rail with a coat hanger.