Noemie walked briskly along the sidewalk. The rain had stopped an hour ago, but the street was still wet. The empty storefronts and fallen garbage cans echoed the click-clack-scrap of her heels striking against the concrete, and the thwick-thwok of her boots picking up the dew that stuck to warm streets on cold nights. She tightened her coat with one hand and held a cigarette in the other, throwing a glance behind her before crossing the street.
Noemie had left her apartment six minutes back after receiving a beep from her best client. She couldn’t be late. She wouldn’t be late. She was Noemie: she was never late, and that was why she was still in business.
There were very few cars out, very few people. The wet streets were eerie in their emptiness, but that didn’t stop her from coming to a halt at the corner of Chestnut and 18th. She let the red light wash over her, blanketing her chills. No matter how often she did it, she wasn’t used to being out so late....Read More