Buy The Ticket, Take The Ride (Corsair, Amy)
Dec 24, 2013 11:04:47 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2013 11:04:47 GMT -5
Leadworth
Glouschestershire
England
AD 2007
The car was bright red, and the madman behind the wheel was driving like it was. The machine snaked around twists and curves in the road at nearly 200 kph, ripping through intersections and passing on blind curves and finally entering the Leadworth city limits without slowing down.
It was, perhaps, a good thing that the hour lacked five minutes of six in the morning. There weren't that many people on the streets as it whipped past a delivery truck and screeched to a halt in front of the town hall. For a moment there was only the pinging of cooling metal.
Then the door opened.
The driver was a small woman, dark haired and dark skinned and flamboyantly dressed. She wore a gold-trimmed maroon frock coat over a cream poet's shirt and black jeans that tucked into knee-high black boots. A spray of lace emerged from each cuff of the coat, and a silver chain with a complicated arrowhead-shaped pendant glittered on her throat, and a black tricorn hat perched on her head.
Slamming the door, she rested her hands on her hips and looked around. "Seriously?" she said, eying the sleepy English community. "It's here?"
Buy The Ticket, Take The Ride
Glouschestershire
England
AD 2007
The car was bright red, and the madman behind the wheel was driving like it was. The machine snaked around twists and curves in the road at nearly 200 kph, ripping through intersections and passing on blind curves and finally entering the Leadworth city limits without slowing down.
It was, perhaps, a good thing that the hour lacked five minutes of six in the morning. There weren't that many people on the streets as it whipped past a delivery truck and screeched to a halt in front of the town hall. For a moment there was only the pinging of cooling metal.
Then the door opened.
The driver was a small woman, dark haired and dark skinned and flamboyantly dressed. She wore a gold-trimmed maroon frock coat over a cream poet's shirt and black jeans that tucked into knee-high black boots. A spray of lace emerged from each cuff of the coat, and a silver chain with a complicated arrowhead-shaped pendant glittered on her throat, and a black tricorn hat perched on her head.
Slamming the door, she rested her hands on her hips and looked around. "Seriously?" she said, eying the sleepy English community. "It's here?"
Buy The Ticket, Take The Ride