

the detectiveAs the plane touched down at Heathrow airport in London, the young athletic man with short, brown fair hair with an upturned nose, sitting in the middle row, knew from the start of his journey something was wrong. He hadnt had any contact from his wife or kids since three days ago. As soon as he stepped down the ladders with the metal going clank, clank, as he took each step, the smell of fuel and smoke filled the air. He quickly made his way to arrivals, as to not choke on the suffocating air. The area was busy with people fumbling about and being herded into a corridor no bigger than the guy who was in front, anthe detective
--
Oh, Those don't sound like FreakBags
my gallery PLEASE VISIT
requests: open
art trades: open
p.s dnt ever put a x at the end of a mesage to me again
Previous PageNext Page