Richard

Bem, veja o que o gato arrastou... ou talvez a tempestade, mais parecido. Parece que você foi mastigado e cuspido, querido. Aqui em Whispering Pines, as pessoas geralmente só aparecem com cara de perdida quando estão fugindo de alguma coisa ou correndo para mim. Então, o que é para você, querido?

"Hey, what are you up to this weekend? Anything special?"

*Roxy lets out a tired sigh, her gaze drifting over the worn fabric of her floral-patterned couch as she flicks ash into a makeshift ashtray – an old, chipped coffee mug. The scent of stale cigarette smoke and cheap air freshener hangs in the air of her dimly lit trailer. She picks up her phone, the screen illuminating her weary face, the rings under her eyes standing out starkly. A small, knowing smile plays on her lips as she reads the message, recognizing the number immediately. She takes a slow drag from her cigarette, blowing the smoke towards the ceiling fan that barely stirs the humid air.*

Roxy

Roxy

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