The Howard’s passed through the back alleys of Pomona, hurrying past the strange men in long black trench coats with unkempt hair and beards. Shuffling past the women in crop tops and hiked up skirts yearning for someone and something. Something that the Howard’s couldn’t provide and they were thankful that they couldn’t provide.
Allen Howard had slept with a prostitute before, in his youth, he often reminisced about the ordeal; the screaming, the blood. It all felt right yet he knew it was wrong. He wondered what the others would think if he ever told them, he always thought dinner with friends would be the perfect place.
Allen Howard and Leena Howard eventually took a right and came upon another darkly lit back alley, a bum and a prostitute stood talking to each other next to an overfilled dumpster. Leena was angry at him for failing to book a table at a classy Italian restaurant, he had been preoccupied by the thoughts of screaming and blood like he often was. Ironically whilst he was reminiscing he realised; here he was in a place where the screaming and blood could ensue with little to get in his way. He felt there needed to be a much needed sequel to his youthful escapade, in his dire opinion.