Hunted
“He knew she’d moved here from Mid-City to rent a place a couple months ago, soon after his surgery. The noise of the French Quarter surrounded him with the smoky sounds of jazz coming from a band playing around the corner and the laughter and chatter from the tourists filling the cramped streets. Underlying the tantalizing scent of food coming from the restaurant down the street, the faint scent of overripe garbage hung in the still air.
“Move over and gimme some room, man,” Schroder said to him, bumping his shoulder into Clay’s to get him to step closer to the wall.
“Find your own spot, it’s too damn hot for you to stand so close,” Clay muttered, but stepped aside anyhow. They were all crowded together in the little patch of space created by the wrought iron pillars supporting the balcony above them, to allow the flow of pedestrians to walk past. It was wide enough that it blocked the stream of the streetlamp coming from behind them.
“Quit your bitching. We’re in New Orleans, baby.
Write Review:
Guest
Read Also
7 / 10
User Reviews: