Unedited
STROLLING THROUGH the dim, backyard. The rotting stench of black nylon garbages, covered the who surroundings, like a wide canopy. At each corner, on the building walls, lay tons of them. Like a signature post.
The odor alone, coming from there, can make a pregnant woman deliver a premature baby. Nathaniel wasn't so far from being in that category.
Cautiously and quietly, he strides down the long, unending yard, with the cricket noise, and flipping bats.
His hands held tight to his, long cotton coat. The spring was getting near. For the chilling hallow of the wind, ran through his ears.
The awareness of the numb contradicted to the cause of making it red, at the tip of his ears. The cold night, added the effect with both his hands deep into his coat pocket.
Pressing
