It really was just one of those days and for Grace Sullivan they were becoming a common occurence. She sat in the car and took a deep breath. She had just about been able to pull into the curb when the engine died and seemingly no amount of trying was going to persuade it to reignite for her. She had reached inside her bag for her cell phone to find that it was dead. Broken or no battery... it didn't matter. There was no cab a phone call away. She looked around outside, already knowing that this was not exactly one of the best neighbourhoods to brake down in. The street lamps were just coming on and the clouds were building, looking like they were getting ready for a downpour. Of course they were, Grace thought to herself. She guessed she couldn't be more than a block or so away from a sub-way station, but the blocks that she was going to have to walk were not like those downtown.
She had been in the city about 3 months and was still finding her feet a little. At 26 years old, a graduate in Journalism, shehad worked for a small time paper in her home town. The had then been a town disaster - a fire at one of the plants - which had caused nearly a dozen deaths and there had been a worry that a noxious cloud of gas was at risk of being released. Her two weeks of daily reports had gotten her noticed by one of the national papers and so here she was. A no-one at a big paper in the big city. She had made a few friends at work but nothing serious at the moment.
She had bought the car shortly after arriving in the city. It was old, it had been all she could afford and now it had done what she had been expecting it to do for a while. Having just dropped off a colleague who had pretty much invited himself into her car to get the lift home, she now found herself on her own with walking her only option. She picked up her purse and climbed out of the car. She was 5'7, with an athletic build. A slim waist, curvaceous rear and a 36d bust. Her shoulder length red hair was tied back in a pony tail with a simple silver clasp. The crisp white shirt she had left the apartment in this morning was a little more creased now. And the grey mid-thigh length skirt was not much better. She had not bothered with a jacket this morning - something she was now regretting. Her black heels clicked on the concrete as she tried to walk quickly without drawing particular attention to herself. Had she expected to be out of the office researching or talking to potential witnesses she would have been in flat shoes and pants, but she had spent the day in the office and had had a briefing with the editor first thing... hence the heels and the skirt. Now she was cursing her luck yet again.
She had been in the city about 3 months and was still finding her feet a little. At 26 years old, a graduate in Journalism, shehad worked for a small time paper in her home town. The had then been a town disaster - a fire at one of the plants - which had caused nearly a dozen deaths and there had been a worry that a noxious cloud of gas was at risk of being released. Her two weeks of daily reports had gotten her noticed by one of the national papers and so here she was. A no-one at a big paper in the big city. She had made a few friends at work but nothing serious at the moment.
She had bought the car shortly after arriving in the city. It was old, it had been all she could afford and now it had done what she had been expecting it to do for a while. Having just dropped off a colleague who had pretty much invited himself into her car to get the lift home, she now found herself on her own with walking her only option. She picked up her purse and climbed out of the car. She was 5'7, with an athletic build. A slim waist, curvaceous rear and a 36d bust. Her shoulder length red hair was tied back in a pony tail with a simple silver clasp. The crisp white shirt she had left the apartment in this morning was a little more creased now. And the grey mid-thigh length skirt was not much better. She had not bothered with a jacket this morning - something she was now regretting. Her black heels clicked on the concrete as she tried to walk quickly without drawing particular attention to herself. Had she expected to be out of the office researching or talking to potential witnesses she would have been in flat shoes and pants, but she had spent the day in the office and had had a briefing with the editor first thing... hence the heels and the skirt. Now she was cursing her luck yet again.