Description
"Cheers, mate," I thank the man in front of me as I receive a kebab in return. I begin walking off to find a spot to sit at in dear old London. Always rainin', always depressin' with you. I set my eyes on a seedy bench near a dark alley. Definitely not preferable, but I don't fancy standing about. I prop up my umbrella and take a seat. I bite into the juicy kebab in my hands and start pondering why Yvette would ever want me here. Maybe she needs my advice on something important. Maybe she needs to move her ugly wardrobe out from her bedroom into the bin. Or maybe... Nah, canny be that. I'm just haverin'. _____ Elizabeth MacMillan was always loyal to her longtime friend, Yvette Lacroix-Wilson. Even with the Scotswoman being the stricter, more reasonable yet more hotheaded of the two, Eliza nevertheless accompanied her optimistic friend to adventures across the world in search of forgotten artefacts. After their most recent journey a year ago which left Yvette gravely injured, Eliza wanted nothing to do with any of her other half's work life. She hoped that her friend shared the same thinking. However, Yvette called her one day and asked for Eliza to come visit her home. The minute she arrived, she wished she hadn't. _____ Leave a comment, share and vote if this story was up your alley! There are around 22k words up to my latest chapter "Unearthed", so hopefully that's sufficient for yous!
I: Drizzle
