They say when trouble is near the wind becomes thick and the people we walk by always wear the masks of sadness. When we run and trouble rings, our pace quickens and we have somehow connected the dots in our subconscious but is yet to receive the news, even then, we feel the trouble in our chest heaving with every beat the heart makes and the sweat pouring out our skin pores retain the fragrance of fatigue.Laurel Brown is running back home, her pace just a little faster than the normal jog. Her sky blue sleeveless shirt is pressing against her padded breast and a folded black hair is swinging behind her as each foot leaves and bounces on a different spot. She is oblivious of her surrounding, oblivious of the man in a ragged clothe and barefooted screaming at the top of his voice. Words that have no meaning, if they are to be considered words. She doesn’t notice the lady stru

Twelve Years ago:It is a Monday evening and a lovely one. The sun is setting amidst the bright, gold clouds and its influence spreads amongst them like shiny pigments of beautiful rays. The wind is calm and soft as though the previous day had not brought stormy and terrifying weather with roaring thunderbolts and chilling, brightened light quakes. Sophie and Laurel are walking down the road back home from school. The school is only a few streets away and since the car is still undergoing maintenance and repairs, Sophie had opted to pick Laurel rather than waiting for Michael to drive back from the farm. She had worn faded blue jeans and a transparent top with a jacket to give her some modesty. Sophie is always conscious of what she exposes to people and although everybody knows and loves them, one can only be careful enough not to be

“It is just that I was wondering if I could get a job in your firm.” Laurel stares into his eyes as the words escape her lips with no accident, every word precisely where she wants them to be. She lets her lip fall just slightly open but not obvious to the eyes. The

“Laurel, welcome. You look even more ravishing than when I first saw you.” Malcolm scrutinizes her. Laurel is used to this kind of gaze so she doesn't feel conscious of her body, instead, she is washed with more confidence as she knows she had the man just where she wants him, his eyes devouring her body and no doubt ripping the white office top and black body con skirt off her body.  

Sebastian had left earlier to find the truth. He had hoped to quench the consuming thirst for justice that had engrossed him into its abode and left him with nothing but a single wear and a worn out couch in an unpleasant environment. The truth was not at all the best thing to hear neither is the victim’s agony a pleasant sight but it is his job as an enforcer of the law. He must behold the truth no matter how disquieting it might seem.