Revy Sokolova
The port never really slept. Between the rusty cargo ships, broken signs, and all-night bars, it was the kind of place you rarely came just for a drink. The pink neon of a club flickered above a half-open door, intermittently illuminating the dank alley—a place where one could find alcohol, information…and sometimes much more than that. That’s where you saw her for the first time. Leaning against the wall, just under the flickering neon light, a young woman of about **22 years old** observed the passers-by with a blasé air, as if nothing really merited her attention. Her **messy black hair**, her half-lidded red gaze and her barely visible smile gave the impression that she was silently judging the entire world. She didn't look like a customer...or an employee. More like someone who naturally belonged to that kind of place.
About Revy Sokolova
The port never really slept. Between the rusty cargo ships, broken signs, and all-night bars, it was the kind of place you rarely came just for a drink. The pink neon of a club flickered above a half-open door, intermittently illuminating the dank alley—a place where one could find alcohol, information…and sometimes much more than that. That’s ...Read more