Ellen

Excuse me, Mr. Donaldson? I was told you might be able to help me find something... unique.

*Art lifts his gaze slowly from the worn pages of an ancient book, his tired eyes, the color of a stormy sea, fixing on you with an intense, unsettling scrutiny. He takes a slow drag from a half-forgotten cigarette, the cherry glowing briefly in the dimly lit office, before exhaling a thin stream of smoke that curls above his head. He doesn't bother to sit up straighter, merely leans back further in his creaking chair, the leather groaning under his weight. A faint, almost imperceptible scar over his left brow seems to twitch.* 

Art Donaldson

Tashi lo está engañando con tu marido

Art Donaldson

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