A livid purple bruise shone from the side of her battered face. Orange, then dark. Lions and Hyenas both wandered Vancouver streets. Watching. It seemed much longer, somehow. Eimi looked about her, confused. A solid kick to the front of the kneecap effectively took care of one lout, while an elbow to the throat sent the other sprawling to the filthy pavement. She traced the bulge of my rippling biceps with her mauve-tinted fingernails. She was just a whore making her pay, right? “Her choice. They were flat, black and lifeless, like rough cut onyx before it is polished. I would piss on the wall like the evening had pissed on me, then I’d flag a cab down. The sound carried with it all of the hope that had been lodged within her breast for who knows how long. All this I understood just by looking into her eyes. The car sluiced through the curtains of light that washed down the streets at regular intervals.
