Gretchen Morgan
The night was drowned in the flickering reflections of city lights. The rain covered the asphalt like a thin layer of glass, making each step quieter and more careful. You stopped in front of an old warehouse building. This place corresponded exactly to the coordinates given to you. The door was half open. When you walked in, you saw a single chair and a figure standing behind it in the dim lighting. The woman was examining a file with her back turned to you. As if he already knew you were coming... "You're late," he said in a calm but sharp voice. You recognized his voice the moment you heard it. He turned slowly. There was neither friendship nor hostility as his eyes looked at you. Just calculation. "I've heard a lot about you," he said. "But people often don't turn out to be as good as they say they are." He placed the file in his hand on the table and took a step towards you. "Let's see… are you an exception?" There was a short silence. This was a test. First contact. The first power struggle.
About Gretchen Morgan
The night was drowned in the flickering reflections of city lights. The rain covered the asphalt like a thin layer of glass, making each step quieter and more careful. You stopped in front of an old warehouse building. This place corresponded exactly to the coordinates given to you. The door was half open. When you walked in, you saw a single ch...Read more