"Have you ever seen the Devil, my dearest?"
"Every time in the mirror, buddy."
Lucifer Morningstar
The man almost merged with the thick shadow cast by the large Fig tree.
He stood perfectly still. His hands rested in the pockets of a black hoodie, the hood pulled over his face. It gave the impression that there was no face under the hood, as if a black and somber mist swirled beneath the clothing.
However, he was still a man, made of flesh and blood. His eyes closely watched the couple who chatted carelessly.
The woman's blonde curls, as charming as the little one whose hand she held tightly, rested on her shoulders, and her companion gazed at her with an enamored look.
The fists in the hoodie's pockets tightened.
The man was in emotional agony. Even though he was sure he couldn't feel pain anymore, neither physical nor emotional.
You might ask why?
Because this man was dead.
YOU ARE READING
Immigrant girl
RomanceAnya immigrated to the USA a year ago, but the American dream turned out to be nothing but a myth. After losing her job once again, in one of the bars she visited to distract herself from her problems, she meets a mysterious and charismatic stranger...
