There was a cool breeze blowing when I stepped out of the restaurant. I could smell the storm coming. It never just rained in Santo Domingo. It was always a hot sticky down pour. Within seconds the street was flowing with the dirty run-off of the street vendors. I was already soaked as I sloshed across the street and into the alley behind the hotel.
"Don't move" the man whispered. I kept walking. "Don't move", he said sternly. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the building shadows. In the darkness of the alley we watched.
Suddenly, a man turned and started running towards us. I turned too, but the mysterious stranger was gone.
1 comment:
You should write a book. It left me hanging- wanting to read more.
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