‘The figurine is near, Patterson,’ the tall, turban-clad woman turned to her elegantly-suited companion, ‘I can tell, the vibration is strong,’ a smile spread across her carmine lips and her floor-length fur coat swayed as she swept across the deck of the RMS Redemption. The crew was preparing the vessel for disembarkation; following in her wake, Patterson with a graceful wave of his hand, signalled to a nearby lacky to attend to the mundane task of handling their luggage.
On the quayside, Joey broke open a new pack of cigarettes; he shoved the cellophane and silver paper into his pocket and drew out a battered yellow matchbox, turning from the malodorous Mersey breeze, a cigarette clamped between his lips. The match broke as he struck it, Joey cursed and fumbled another match from the box.
An arm, with a precise half-inch of shirt cuff showing from a fine grey-wool sleeve, proffered a flame from a silver lighter; the end of Joey’s cigarette flared and he inhaled deeply, nodding his thanks. The owner of the arm held the young man’s eyes with a hypnotic blue-grey stare; a regal-looking woman appeared at his side, extending her hand and smiling a red-lipped smile.
Written in response to two challenges:
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Photo credit: illustration from a book somewhere on my bookshelves which I STILL cannot locate 😉