
“The rain comes thick and fast, hurling itself towards the pavement as though seeking a penalty to be given against its cloud. My pace quickens. Short, sharp steps clattering against the grey concrete slabs. It is also cold. Bitterly so. There is sporadic warmth under the glow of each passing street lamp overhead. Shop signs arrive into and quickly disappear from my peripheral vision.” (The Seventy Two)
Recommended reading
Leave a reply
