I saw early drafts of Their Own Executioners and it’s so coooooool to see it out in the world now it’s all grown up.
‘It’s not so bad there, most of the time.’ Fog wafted around his mouth as he spoke, drawing pale curlicues on the night air. The building was quiet around us.
He looked like condensation, liable to slip out of sight without solidifying.
He smelled like wet pavement.
‘Why do you keep coming back?’ I asked.
He looked at me, rubbed a hand along his irregular jaw. Stubble created no friction beneath his fingers; just a silent back and forth movement as he considered my question. I didn’t mind that he was unshaven. At least he’d set his face to rights before he came this time.
For the rest: http://www.chizine.com/their_own_executioners.htm