The Blacklist

The street is filthy. As I walk through it, I can’t help but scrunch my face in disgust when my nostrils fill up with that wretched smell coming from the trash scattered all over the sidewalk. “I simply can’t believe that I have to meet this man at such a gruesome place,” I think to myself as I stop next to some shop called ‘Things n Stuff’ to wait for the aforementioned. I take my phone out of my soft brown coat’s pocket to distract myself from all the commotion around me, but I can’t seem to concentrate on it with all the noise around me—dogs barking ceaselessly, women screaming at each other, cars honking loudly. I then decide to call him. “Hey it’s me. Where are you?” Continue reading “The Blacklist”

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