The moon shone brightly in the cold night as Max stood at the edge of the building. A cigarette in his mouth and smoke drifting with the breeze, to dissapate over the city below. Like a mage casting a spell.
“It’s been one hell of a run hasn’t it, lover,” Maggie said to him as she approached. She had been inside with the others.
“It’s not over yet,” Max replied. He knew he wasn’t a spring chicken anymore, but someone had to keep fighting the good fight.
“You know something I don’t know?” Maggie questioned him.
“Well, you better call Ripley’s,” he told her with a wry smile….