We're the has-beens of husbands

He didn't look at the femme right away, still focused on the border itself more than anything else. "I am Neo Gorecki." He said without bothering to look at her. She was of little importance as far as he knew. He didn't care to ask her for her name, he didn't even care what she looked like. She was not one of the white and russet brown whores that he had grown to hate. She had no trace of Cairo's wretched scent permanently affixed to her body. She was just another wolf.
Walk this way

Talk this way