The snow fell thick over the unconscious bodies of four small-time car thieves on 106th street, gently coating their limp forms in a thin layer of white powder.
Police Captain Aaron Slate surveyed the scene, the Christmas lights reflecting off the ice collecting on the criminal quartet.
Slate cracked a smile, heaving a sigh made visible by the grey condensation in the winter air.
“Guess he’s kept busy.”
The snow fell soft over the dark street, casting a grayscale shadow over the dark avenue. The streetlights highlighted the wet pavement, polluting the clouds in a dull glare that pulled the warmth from the road. A black boot splashed through the slush, approaching a pair of its wearer’s comrades. He pulled his coat high around his neck, shaking off the winter breeze as he commented regarding it to his friends. He felt the cold, wet weather in his toes, chilling him all the way up from the ground with the deep, aching cold that shook his entire form.
The car they awaited would be there in just a few minutes, and after that he could get back to his apartment, get a warm shower and go to bed. Anything to be out of this environment.
After the hours I’d been tailing him, I felt the same way.
Needless to say, both of us were relieved when the cab pulled up to the curb.
The cabby rolled down the window as one of the gangsters walked around the back of the car, opening the edge of his coat to ease access to the gun in his belt.
He clutched it tight in his hands as the streetlights flickered to blackness. Continue reading