Right where we first met, actually. That business man was finally completed, in all it's glory. Faceless, stiff, it was almost like the graffiti itself was watching me. It was unnerving, to say the least. But there she was, leaning against the wall, lit by the dim glow of a street lamp. She called out to me, no malice in her voice, her tone surprisingly neutral for someone I had tackled a couple days earlier.
We chatted for a long while, talking about art, her graffiti. The entire time she never removed a monogrammed bandanna that concealed the lower half of her face. I gave her my name, she gave me her pseudonym, "Silk Worm". What could I have expected, really, I'm a cop, she's a vandal. But she did promise to meet somewhere, no mask for her, no badge and gun for me.
We both went our separate ways, my heart hammering the entire time. Did I just agree to a date? Dad would kill me if he found out, the cop and the criminal. Ironic.
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