Morning After | Open
The sight of the city is enough to have Bette’s stomach churning, the smashed glass over the ground, bloodstains streaking the cobblestones and the empty husks of burnt out cars and trashcans still littering the streets as far as her eyes can see. It’s a war zone and she’s flashed back to years before when she’d first seen the violence with her own eyes and refused to pick a side.
Her eyes fix on a cafe, one she’d been sitting at only a day earlier, seeing the table on its side, the ivy over the trellis burnt to a crisp, and her head shakes as she locates a chair, sitting down and staring at the ground muttering to herself unaware of someone approaching from behind “....So much for Mayor Calder’s big crackdown on crime”

















