It was the last Subway. The Metro on a Friday. I woke up at La Defense, stretched out over the bench to stare into this:
Sometimes, I hated Paris. The Elves part was ridiculous and I just hard parked my ride in the Office District for convenience getting out of town quicker after the job. They must have had an evening out walking the Champs Elysee while I had a job done and went way past my normal sleeping time so I passed out for a moment.
Now I stared at two skinny fit suits right in front of me in an otherwise empty car of the Metro presenting me their private parts first thing in the bright cold light of the Metro in less than two meters distance.
I am not sure why that happened. God's ways are mysterious and Karma is spelled Fuck You. I sat up. Drunk from the sleep, but otherwise all sober and looked down my dark blue Italian version of formal clothing usually indicating my position of someone not to mess with and was stared at from top to bottom by - Elves.
Like they never had seen a Troll.
Anyway. I stood up while the train was still moving and walked to the door.
#cyberpunkcoltoure
