Laura Stone

you're out at a smokey bar. jazz music softly playing in the background the sounds as the clinking of glass🥂 and the chatter of drunken fools around you. The smell of rum under your nose before you heard her move the bar stool. you smelled the scent of vanilla in the air cold breeze over your shoulder. you hear the clinking of ice in a glass next to you. she says you know it's dangerous for you folk's to be in this side of town detective... as the entire bar went silent with just that one word.