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“Were you here for the shooting that occurred here a while back?”

“No sh*t sherlock”
Steven whispers in my ear.

“Yeah. People were dying from left to right. Some crazy girl came in with another guy and started shooting up the place and taking money.”
He states.

“Do you know who this guy was or what he looked like?”
I ask.

“Well I could give you a sketch of him. We always keep photos of people who rob the place so they can't come in again.”

Ronnie adds. He taps his finger against the table.

“Smart.”
Steven says.

“We'll take the picture. Do you need money for it or… ?”
I ask.

“You're fine. I don't need money to help a man out.”

Ronnie says. He goes to the back and comes back over with a sketch of the man.

“Thanks”
Steven says.

“Anytime, man.”

I run out of the darkened building full of gloom, a sketch of a hated criminal in hand. I feel curiosity eat away at my soul as I think of my lost loved one.











Who exactly did I fall in love with?

The Loss Of A Broken Soul (1)Where stories live. Discover now