Winter Interlude
Carter stood on the corner of Thirty-Second and Main, watching the snow fall across the final scurrying shoppers of the holiday season. Each seemed to be on his or her own mission to find that final perfect extra something. He sighed. This was a time for family, not ... companionship, and business had been slow all week, fading faster as the days ticked off the calendar. Oh, sure, mid-month had been busy as office parties were thrown and the well-to-do needed eye-candy to drape over an arm, but that too, had slowly dried up.
Oh, it wasn't as if he needed the money. Far from it. This time of the year, though, always tugged on the stained and tattered edges of his soul. He sighed again and reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigar and a single red rose. He held the flower to his nose and inhaled deeply. In the distance, the cathedral's carillon began its traditional carol, counting down to midnight. With a single tear cooling the fur on his muzzle, he knelt in the snow and placed the rose on the corner of the curb.
Standing and using the back of his glove to wipe the tear angrily away, he lit the cigar and stomped to the car idling nearby. Peeling the gloves off after he slammed the door, he glared at the driver's impassive face in the rear view mirror. "Drive," Carter growled at him and stared out the window.
Snow crunched under the tires and the vehicle drove away and soon faded into the city's night.