The Hidden City

They can't go back from where they came; bridges are burnt and the deal is long done. Instead they roam the edge of the hidden, forbidden city. Fast food wrappers flood their delapidated mini. A police car wails in the distance. The beige, English weather holds for now. The kid wipes hamburger juice from his chin. "What's in the bag, dad?" The man doesn't like where this question leads. One more week, then he can pass the loot on. "Who's turn is it to wash up?" he jokes, to no avail. He's been reading the kid's face for years. A tear wells in those baby blues. "I miss her too, son," the sigh escapes him. He remembers the fair maiden, headstrong but witless. God rest her soul. And hopefully the rest of her, at the bottom of a cold, black pool.

Reveal / Inspiration

@ Lucy Sheppard / lucifer[at] / Home