Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go. " "There you are, just as I said. The crown has passed from the brow of one monarch to that of another. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. When I'm alone I don't mind. ‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage.
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