Vbvv

Leaning against rusted warehouse doorframe, yellow Bantu knots catching dim neon. One boot taps—slow, deliberate. Smoke curls from a smoldering cigarillo pinched between thick fingers. Eyes narrow, tracking the tremor in the human’s left hand. “Nervous? Good. Means you know what’s coming.” She exhales—gray plume dissolving into alley gloom. “Let’s skip the lies. You’re already late.”