A Thousand Shades of Violet.

We parked facing a dead end. The residential plots on this street appeared to be small warehouses of some sort. Tall corrugated zinc gates locked shut. Not a sight nor sound escaped those walls. And neither would a sight or sound enter. The perfect place to take an unsuspecting victim — no one would hear their distress.

In the passenger seat of my car was a new girl. We had started talking just one month prior. I got the feeling she was on the edge of the rink, deciding if she could trust me. Meanwhile, I was neutral, as always. A good position of leverage — for me, at least.



Businessman (myika.co), MMA fighter, poetry fan.<mika@myika.co>

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