Tony was about to venture back inside – even if it meant listening to another dean or two – when something darted past him on the sidewalk. A human-sized blur, it moved with speed and urgency before slipping and tumbling to the ground.
Tony took a few steps forward. The runner was laying face-down, stuffing something into the right pocket of a long raincoat. The coat had ridden up during the fall, exposing the light bare flesh of a pair of legs and a hint of something else, something white, closer to the waistline. Tony couldn’t make out details. It was dark and the rain whipped his face. A barrage of droplets stung his eyes.
“Are you OK?” he half-hollered.
Un Lampo di Bianco Scene 9
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