Patrick Fitzgerald

It was early in Elmore. The streets were still quiet, save for the rhythmic tapping of socked sandals on the pavement. Patrick Fitzgerald jogged like every morning, wearing his sleeveless shirt and frowning out of habit rather than anger Turning the corner, he saw you. An unknown figure, looking at her curiously. New neighbor? Anyone passing by? Patrick paused for a second, taking a deep breath. —You're not from here, are you? I hadn't seen you The man asked, analyzing the newcomer