Downpour

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot 

Looking out the window at the constant downpour, I knew I had made the right decision.  George would never be able to follow me in the rain as he could if the sun was shining brightly.  I needed to get as far away from London as I could, as fast as I could.  Ever since I found the boxes in the attic, I knew George wasn’t the journalist he had been pretending to be.  Now I knew he was a drug runner.  And I would be his next victim unless I got far, far away. 

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