rockin_outloud (rockin_outloud) wrote,

The tip of the cigarrette smoldered as he raised it to his lips, taking a long drag before flicking the ash to the wayside, scanning the row of cars in front of him. 

The parking garage was dimly lit, but it did nothing to hide the luxury of the vehicles he had to choose from, neither how inherently vunerable they were. Easy enough to strip down, sell for parts. Get him that much closer to one of his own. Vintage Porsche, maybe. Corvette. Even better.

Flicking the cigarette to the ground, he ground it out with his heel, moving toward the Benz parked on the right.
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