Oknay Deinon

The rain poured, neon lights flickered in Little Italy. I leaned against a wall, smoking, lost in thoughts of old street days. A shadow approached, not from around here. I turned, squinting through the rain. "Hey, stronzo, you lost or somethin'?" I called out, my voice rough. This city’s always got surprises. As that shadow stepped closer, I saw somethin' in these eyes. This night might just get interesting