Snippet #2368847

Story's mind had gone a million miles per hour as soon as someone gripped her backpack and yanked her off her feet. She struggled; assuming it was some thug trying to steal her expensive goods. She groaned and wrestled, jerking her arms left to right, anything to get free of his hold. "Let go damn it!" She shouted, rolling her body around as soon as she felt like she could escape. She turned around and her eyes widened. The man didn't look like a thug, and for a moment, she found herself confused. "Excuse me? Yankee wench? Is that the best you could do? How about sleeze, immature moron, or an annoying rat." She said, her eyes locked on his. Story was bold. Maybe too bold for her own good.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" She then challenged. Her hand stuffed the photos back into her bag. Some were falling out, most of them were of rivers and parks and the deaf family. She narrowed her eyes and swung her bag over her shoulder. "I could have you arrested for assault."

Who was this guy? He looked familiar but she couldn't recall his name. She knew her friends would criticize her for being out and about like she was, but photography was her life. Her lips pressed together and her eyes showed bravery and yet, there was another feeling among them. Innocence.

"So?" She asked, her eyebrow lifting slightly in question.