Florin in the deep night. Place of shadows and quiet solitude - here where the warehouses and industrial estates ran together. Poor hunting, unless one knew where to look; but with privacy to make the effort worth while. The streets are empty; the yellow hued street lamps are eyes that are blind.
There was only the screech of tyres and the grind of metal, cutting into the cool wintry air. There was only the dull crash of a heavy object, tinkling of glass, to make a melody of the night above the faded rumble of the highway some blocks away.
Sometimes the city is pitiless and brutal; a predator of casual indifference if it spies nothing of value to itself. It doesn't stop other predators, no less dangerous, from scavenging among the dregs that cast themselves upon the dark urban shore.
Nor will it block an altruistic hand, extended in sympathy.
There is a van, battered and scored down one side; the rear door hangs open, the lock traumatised into oblivion; windows cracked and shattered; steam is beginning to bubble from a cracked radiator. Steering locked, the vehicle has mounted the curb, connected with a low wall, and in a final insult a back tyre bursts after the crash.
Garrick Marlon Kelreth Alice Hart Saber_Sloth your plot begins here.
For everyone else, this plot has two slots left open - so first come, first served. Please, enjoy
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Presence
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