The Corner Office
A Destroyer Always Lands on Her Feet
Fiction by cougar_w
Diamond was out for a walk. It was late, the retail shops were closed and the streets nearly empty but the darkened city was still quietly buzzing with a potent mixture of midnight dining, public drunkenness, and sex.
For all the nightlife churn and the packed sidewalks, she was walking very much alone. Or to put it another way, she was on the prowl. In fact the former activity would be hard to differentiate from the latter except that prowling usually resulted in someone being eaten.
