Groaning to herself, she opened the adjacent cuboard to find a bag of Mother’s Cookies. It felt about three quarters full. ‘Shit, I’ll take it,�...� she said to herself. Michelle walked back to the front door. She pulled the pack out of her pocket and opened it, pulling one out. She stuck it in her mouth as she walked out the door. She lit it up and looked up to yet another unsettling sight that made the cigarette drop from her lips. A pool of blood was slowly spreading in the street, surrounding. The man's hips flair out supporting what have to be very muscled legs clad in blue jeans. His boots are worn from use and the black leather shows scuff marks from his work.All in all, you're in shock. There is not a detestable scar running across his face. No rolling jiggling gut or any other marking of a disturbing man who would take a woman against her will in an alley. No, this man would have been equally successful in a bar buying a lady a drink. He wasn't average looking, but was actually. More

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