Unknown to be Truthful
an excerpt

The room was colder than ice as Shane took steps one at a time into it. The walls were a murky green with graffiti in shades of black and blue on it. The single bare light bulb flickered, it was burning down. Two chairs were the only pieces of furniture there. They were wooden and decaying slowly.

“Take a seat, Mr. Bornes will be in soon,” says the prostitute who had showed him in.

“Thanks,” he says politely and nods at the girl in fishnets, red shorts, and black shirt barely covering her breasts. She snaps her gum and nods back before closing the door and going on her way.

Shane shivers and pulls his leather coat closer to him as he takes another look around at the bare room. He notes that there aren’t any windows there, only one way out; the door. Shane drops back to a place where Mr. Bornes would not see him when he enters into the room. The floor is tiles and full of slippery mud; tracked in from the many people entering and exiting. There is dried blood on the ground from someone’s bloody nose. He knows he has little time before Mr. Bornes comes in. Shane pulls a digital camera of medium quality from his pocket beneath his long trench coat. He takes one picture of the chairs and the light bulb, another of the name Ryis drawn on the wall in black spray paint.