Drawn Together"a fit! A seizure! There must be some kind of police report!"Drawn Together by ~markmywords85
"Sir, any such information would be confidential. But there has been no report of anyone having a 'fit' or 'seizure' this morning. Now, please step aside!"
"No, no. I'm sorry." Paul backed away, suddenly aware that the queue behind him was becoming a small, angry crowd. A policeman stood nearby, radio held to his lips. Someone coughed, "Nutter," as he staggered away from the kiosk and up towards the London streets.
He scanned the crowd surging into the station, hoping to see the shock of red hair and the deep brown of the jacket. A hand gripped his left forearm.
"Is he here? Did you find him?" A man, maybe fifty, stared at Paul with pleading, mud-colored eyes. The close-cropped, salt-and-pepper hair and hangdog features sparked Paul's memory: it was the man with the belt. The wo
A Shower and a Change"Ah, damn. God damn."A Shower and a Change by ~markmywords85
The stain was small, no larger than a coin. It fell near his right hip, nestled in the dip between crotch and thigh. Still, it was nauseating. Paul stripped off the trousers and walked to the sink, hoping the sliver of hotel soap would take out the spot.
He began running the hot water and paused, staring at the vomit. Resisting the urge to gag, he grazed his fingers over the stain. It was purely liquid and slick like dish soap, but the sickly brown could only be vomit. He slowly raised his hand to his face and sniffed his fingers. Nothing. It seemed, for a moment, odorless. But no, he suddenly caught a faint scent of metal. Like a cup full of coins. Or a bloodied nose.
"Shit!" A stream of blood ran down his nostrils, over his lip and down his chin. Paul dropped the trousers to the bathroom floor and watched the b