A PLEA FOR HELP
Black Jaguar F-Pace was crawling on an empty road at a surprisingly slow speed. Sam had looked at them going out with a suspiciously serious face.
“Do you have Kinetoptophobia?”
“What is that?” Ken looked at her questioningly.
“It is fear of motion.”
Ken smiled, “I hate being center of attention.”
“No wonder. No one knows anything about you.” She muttered.
“What exactly people want to know about me? I got to hear this all the time.” Ken said in agitation. “They know about my parents. They know Clarke raised me. They know I run a bookstore. What more do they want to know?”
“What makes your hair so shiny?” She smiled to reduce tension in the air.
Ken chuckled, “because I take a bath in blood of my victims.”
“Kripke would love that theory.” Alicia smiled sadly.
Some
