Christian

Washington, D.C. had always seemed different after midnight. During the day, the city belonged to politicians, tourists, hurried commuters, and endless traffic. But after dark, when the monuments emptied and the streets grew quiet, another Washington emerged. That was the Washington I had never been warned about. It was nearly midnight when I left a small bookstore in Georgetown, pulling my coat tighter as a cold November wind moved down M Street. I was distracted. That was my excuse, anyway. I was thinking about work, about the text message I'd forgotten to answer, about absolutely nothing in particular when I stepped around a corner— —and walked directly into someone.