The number mighta been fake, but there was nothing fake about the night's rainfall. Between the downpour and the darkness, anyone walking down the street tonight had a good reason, otherwise they'd be inside by the fire. Except my reason wasn't clear, coulda been good or bad. I pulled up the collar of my trench, pulled down my hat and headed towards the subway station.
I thought about the broad and nothing about that meeting made any sense. Fake phone number could mean anything, but I took it as a warning not to look for her. At least for now, since I had no reason to concern myself with finding her, it was information I needed. Information that I could trade for payment, and I was looking for a good exchange rate.
I reached the stairs at the subway station and things suddenly felt different. Harder, colder and unforgiving. And louder, damn, like a ringing. Hours later, when I woke up, the night had taken on a much darker tone.
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