Marc left the room, wearing a fedora, and trying to slouch. He thought he would seem short. He had glasses on, and in his left hand a pocket mirror. This a trick from Denver allowed him to watch that car without turning his head. The car didn't move just stayed parked. What could the driver be doing in there? Writing an
autobiography
?
Marc moved quick down the back stairs, then moved back behind the apartments. Things littered this area aluminum cans and toys a sock or too, and even a condom. Marc peered around the corner with his mirror the person, maybe a man, Marc couldn't tell was just sitting there, staring down at something, maybe even smirking.
So Marc waited, like 5 minutes, and the guy didn't even look up. So Marc went back the other way, leaving the motel to walk around the block. In case he followed him, he wouldn't take him to Sammies. He kept going now he turned around.
Nothing.
He kept going around the block, right where he originally chased Sammy for seeing him danced. He touched the phone line pole, and swirled a bit, turned around with a flourish but there was no one.
Who the fuck just sits in their car? He would be 15 minutes late.
