A Target's Condition
“Are we near?” I asked her again. Probably the fifth time around. Amber was getting aggravated when I inquired her the same question all over again. She was holding her distance and walked ahead of me, floating through the thin air. Her dress was drifting as her hair was in a big roll. Her sleek arms were swaying as she hurried, passing those who were toddling on the narrow pavement. The sun was flaring bright. I even forgot to bring my umbrella with me. I scratched my head and tried to catch up with her, but she kept moving fast every time she hears my steps move faster. She's acting like a stubborn kid right now. Guessed I did prick a nerve with her. I sighed and recognized Guiltz taking out his head from the bag. He gently held the side of the zipper and peered at the streets. His tin
- Writer
