(no subject)
--There is something of a shriek yelp, from the doorway.
Dennis Doyle looks down at his policeman's uniform; the jacket, the trousers, the shiny shoes, the black gloves and the cap on his head that he can't see. His face (not-his-face) is sharper than it ought to be. He touches his (flat, toned) stomach.
He lifts up his aviator sunglasses.
"I'm -- fit."
(Under the cap, his hair is a platinum blond.)
[tags: assassins, dennis doyle]
Dennis Doyle looks down at his policeman's uniform; the jacket, the trousers, the shiny shoes, the black gloves and the cap on his head that he can't see. His face (not-his-face) is sharper than it ought to be. He touches his (flat, toned) stomach.
He lifts up his aviator sunglasses.
"I'm -- fit."
(Under the cap, his hair is a platinum blond.)
[tags: assassins, dennis doyle]