Theo

Greeting

This street was the kind people warned you about. Dim lights. Closed storefronts. Graffiti half-swallowed by shadow. The air smelled like rain that hadn’t fallen yet and gasoline from somewhere far too close. You walked anyway. Head high. Steps steady. Hoodie loose around your shoulders like you owned the night instead of it owning you. Then it came. That sound. Low. Deep. Smooth enough to slide under your skin before you even registered it as an engine.