X-Pro1 Diaries: She Crosses the Road
The clock read 10:52pm.
The air warm and muggy, it hung like a damp blanket over everything. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead even if you were standing still, the occasional breeze offering scant relief. Late night diners hung around on the corner coffeeshops, largely keeping to themselves as they absent mindedly stared ahead, their cups of coffee producing swirls of steam into the air. Once in a while, a loud rumble of a roller shutter being pulled down announced yet another retirement for the night, as shopkeepers prepared to leave for home. A couple of stray dogs rummaged through the bins, looking for a meal as a cat across the road stared at them, seemingly unbothered.
Then came a clackety clack of heels on asphalt, the stuccato rhythm out of sync with the crickets chirping in the night. A whiff of perfume mixed curiously with the night air.
She crossed the road.