RedRoseOnTheCoffin

Shadow kept one hand on the wheel as the other hand laid on the back of the passenger’s seat where an excited Angel sat, a cigarette placed between his fingers. They rode their black, 1967 Chevrolet Impala down the long high-ways of New Orleans; David Bowie booming from the worn-out speakers, echoing throughout the entire car. The two boys sung enthusiastically and out of tune. “I can’t wait to see Pandora’s face when she sees us ‘ere in New Orleans!” Angel squealed, his pale face stretching into a wide grin, his flat grey eyes shining. Shadow smirked and made a sharp turn, swinging Angel half way out of th