Stumbling into a mouldy gutter in a misty alley, I saw him watching me but I couldn’t quite catch his eye. Oh, those perfectly dark olive set eyes staring onto the back of my neck. I felt he could read my mind, the whispering thoughts swirling like a kaleidoscope of memories, but he was invisible, no trace in my mind that I knew him. The once masterpiece of colours and imagination is now a blank page. What happened?
I knew one thing, my name is Avalon Green. My head was throbbing like a bull rush of cattle pounding their hooves like heavy metal drums. Small scars and blemishes devoured my body and my blood dripping from my scull. Rags of a ripped leotard slung over my shoulder and some old of pair boots that look like they were pulled out a swamp were tied to my weak lanky ankles. I was starving but the pain was bearably compared to my almost fatal injury on the base of my head.
Wrapping my sores in the left over black latex of my skin-tight leotard, the man showed himself from behind the shadows. Golden streaks of blonde hair caressed his forehead and that misty green forest in his eyes glistened in the light fog.
