Just love the way your writing can change but fused you with it in so many ways .. One minute you are like the noir films and then Raymond Chandlers and detectives like Marlowe coming to the rescue of women in need just like your own life fused together as in lives and facets of the mind ..Realiy brilliant writing Andrew … Ian
A Better Life
A flash of light introduced a thunder clap.
Rising to his feet, he found himself in the janitor’s supply room; two floors above his intended location.
Every second counted. Jack burst out of the closet, dashing into the nearest stairwell. He only had one chance to prevent this horror. If he didn’t stop it now, the moment could never be undone.
Tripping over his feet, he tumbled down the stairs, smacking into the hard concrete wall. Head spinning like a carousel, he wobbled to his feet. Bolts of pain streaked down his leg.
His desperate eyes glanced at the time.
Stumbling away, he ignored the burning currents that tormented him.
Was he too late?
He limped onto the second floor. Seventy feet separated him from his destination.
He didn’t want her to be scarred forever.
Ignoring an out of service sign, Jack hurled himself at the bathroom…
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