Kissing... that was where the money had always been. That's where money was always going to be. Already at least 10 people of both genders had walked into the alley before leaving all within a minute. It was almost laughable. The guilty glance each way upon approach, the giddy grin of satisfaction upon leaving... even the light skip in their step as they walk as quickly as possible far away from the dark alley that had had far too many visitors in the past hour. It implied business... physical business. All illegal to the extreme. The operative may have laughed at the sheer lack of secrecy if it were not for his partner Lee 'Balls' Johnson sitting next to him, his crew cut hair matched by his draw back snarl that seemed a permanent feature. As they sat in the unmarked car parked slightly down the road from the alley the operative, known to most as Flipsey due to his prowess with a switchblade, pulled at the mandatory leather black gloves he was wearing covering the tattoo that had briefly been partially revealed. He had never asked as to why his partner was called Balls and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to. Turning his attention back to the situation that was unfolding in the alley with a sigh, Flipsey reached one gloved hand out of the window and flicked the switch on the headlamp with a satisfying click. There was a moments pause before a dull thump rang out as the million watt lamp exploded into life, filling the world with light. It had to be a woman... it was always a woman...
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A Touch of Hope
FantasyThe year is 2035. Following the Pax Plague and the rise of the police state, physical contact has been outlawed upon pain of death. Private meetings are held in hidden rooms to find new ways of hand shaking. Public executions are daily. Dealers in s...