Angela

Lorenzo’s face was too red, beads of sweat showing at the temples. Alice lit up another Pall Mall. “What’s the matter, Sugar?” she purred. He continued to struggle with the ignition key. “Well, I told Francine she could have the car at midnight,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “Well. You’d best hurry, then,” she said placidly. Over the crest of the hill, headlights flickered, grew closer. A dog barked.