And... it's Tuesday! Time for Teaser Tuesday!
His footsteps faded as he walked away. I kept one hand on the pistol and felt the walls with my other hand. The hallway was barely wider than the span of my arms. The walls were covered with some sort of textured paper and I smoothed my hand over it then traced the raised design with my fingertip. Damask pattern. In a secret speak easy?
It seemed out of place, but then again, this entire experience seemed out of place in my life. Just eight months ago, Mother, Grandfather, and I lived a life of opulence in Bohemia. Now, I was alone, scampering down a dark hallway with a stranger in America.
I felt like a rat, hiding from a big, hungry cat—my father, the man who’d killed—or had ordered the death of—Grandfather.