He might have been the tallest, baldest man Louise had ever seen. He looked a few years older than her, but roughly the same age bracket. Only much, much taller. Not spindly-tall, or chunky-tall; just tall. He was inspecting the â€œFor Saleâ€ sign attached to the brick wall which enclosed the front courtyard of an old, two-storey townhouse. He turned as Louise approached, inspected her, and smirked.
|Morning in Melbourne by Nicole Taylor|