Chapter 3 - Bullet mark

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"Damn!" I curse and turn my head back to not lose Harry out of sight. You can easily get away from each other in this city, just make one wrong turn and you're pretty much screwed. After a few streets we stop to catch our breaths. Harry claps on a dumpster as a sign for me to take a seat. Thanks to a set of moving boxes and a chair I balance and jump up on the six feet high thing and Harry follows, carrying the bagels in his right hand. How he managed to get up with only one free arm messed up my entire way of reasoning.

"Here." He breathes heavily and flashes a bright smile. With a quick motion he drops one of the round pieces of bread to me. If I didn't have as fast reflexes as I did it would have ended up as crumbles all over my lap. I catch it as I still have one hand resting on my ribcage. I feel my own chest pound like a maniac and I hear myself exhale, inhale just as loudly as he does. My eyes get caught staring into the wall opposite of us. Graffiti in bright pink and yellow decorates the side of the buildning. Someone had been feeling creative that day. In one of the grey bricks below the way out of porportion graffiti letters I distinguish a bullet mark. I'm not surprised. Muggers carrying guns isn't unusal around here. They even stopped printing articles about shootings in the New York Times because if they would keep publishing them there wouldn't be room for other incidents or events. If you think about it, just another guy snatching a woman's purse in the alley gets boring after a while. The media has more important things to inform about, like... I can't think of anything on the top of my head right now. I hate keeping up with media. Whether it's though the internet, TV or magazines. The entire concept bored me to death.

"One thing that struck me was how none of them saw us leaving the coffee shop?" Harry utters and breaks the silence. As silent as it can be when you're munching on toasted bread crusts.

"Hmm..." I wrinkle my forehead. "Maybe they're just stupid."

"Don't say that."

"Sorry."

We sit in another silence until I can't take it anymore. I get up on my feet and get ready to jump of the container. Standing straight up the distance from me to the ground suddenly seems to double. But I'm not scared of heights.

"Ash what are you-" Harry interrupts himself and pushes himself of his comfortable seating position to grab me by the arm.

"No.." I whine, pushing my lower lip forward and up in an attempt to pout and look dissapointed.

"You can at least sit down."

I give in and sit down throwing my legs over the edge instead. Within seconds my feet hits the ground. Harry finished his last bite of bagel and swings down landing in my foot steps. Well, if it was possible to leave foot steps in cobble stone his landing would have fitted right into them. If I hadn't taken a step forward he probably would've kicked me in the back of my head considering I was facing away from the dumpster. I feel his arms wrap around me over my shoulders in a tight hug.

"Man I love bagels." He sighs, rocking me gently back and forth for a minute. I let myself close my eyes and lean back, resting my head on his chest. I'm not so tall. He is the most random guy I have ever come across. He always says the things that pops into his mind, even if it has nothing to do with anything at all. He gets lost in his own train of thought and forgets he doesn't make sense.

When I hear something that sounds like a pair of flip flops walking nearby the peace is over and I quickly get back up.

"Lets get back to the hotel. You got your bagel." I offer him my hand and he takes it. We leave the alley before the flip flops had a chance to see we were even there.

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