The Sound of Your Footsteps: by Michael Reyes
Michael Reyes The bum covered in shit sat ragged and bare-faced at the Crossroads of the World. He called himself Mazda Miata, his broken grin and feral gaze more than enough to keep strangers six feet away, not that there were many people around. The few that walked his territory did so in a hurry—essential… Continue reading The Sound of Your Footsteps: by Michael Reyes
