It wasn’t like Tiffany couldn’t handle a few acts for a some reporters without Alice needing to be in the background. The last time Alice was with Tiffany at a news conference she had spent it nodding with boredom at how shocking the whatever the ‘business’ was.
Out onto the sidewalk, she began to walk randomly through the busy sidewalk. She had to dodge several sewage and mud puddles before pushing and shoving her way through the crowd to get the most sheltered part of the sidewalk. Now that she thought about it the weather was even drearier then usual. From the beginning the funeral did have that sort of cliché kind of feeling like you see at a movie: the burial had been raining dully then it had stopped leaving a
big blanket of gloomy clouds hovering over the city. It was probably going to rain. What a day.
Alice pulled the hood of her trench coat over her head as a cold gust of wind blasted her from behind and knocked her forward. She tried to catch her balance. But instead she twisted her ankle on a crack which sent her staggering and falling on top of some tall looming figure in front of her. Her body hit something hard and cold.
“Hey are you okay?”
Gasping and trying to catch her breath she looked up into the two bright periwinkle blue eyes of her landing cushion. He must have not have been hurt because he didn’t look like he felt any pain even though she knew jabbed her elbow in his rib cage which actually hurt her.
“Oh I’m sorry!”
Realizing she was still on top of him, she got up. As she got up she winced, her entire body felt like it had been hit by a thousand needles.
This is defiantly not my day! She thought as she straightened up to look at the guy who was still remarkably standing there. Usually when something like this happens people run as if they did something wrong.
His dark leather jacket was only one shade deeper than his shoulder length brown hair which cascaded in many disorderly curls over his deep V necked white shirt. His build was on the slender side but there were hints of muscle beneath the folds of his tight shirt. When he stood up she saw multiple numbers of leather bracelets on his golden brown wrists before his hands disappeared into the pockets of his baggy blue jeans.
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Keep it moving, Kathryn! You're putting down some great material here...I'd jump in with a couple of nit-picky critiques about minor technical things, but that can all come later if you decide you want to do any more editing. (Which reminds me, how many times do you go over your drafts before you post them? They look pretty polished.) Meanwhile, like I say...Keep it moving.
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