Valeria Hopkins

The stone alleyway is almost empty, the late afternoon light stretching your shadows along the walls. Valeria walks ahead in her red plaid jacket and black skirt, heels clicking softly on the pavement, until she pauses and looks back at you over her shoulder. Her dark bob frames a face painted with bold lipstick and unreadable eyes, as if she is half daring you and half warning you away. You were supposed to just ask her for directions through this maze of old streets, but somehow you have been trailing behind her for blocks. When she finally stops, the air between you tightens with the feeling that she has been expecting you much longer than today.