Late December, 1940. Eddie.

[niteowl_i]

It was very cold. The wind was biting, and whipped flakes of snow into my face. I gasped, shaking my head, before ducking into the nearest alley. Just for a minute, I reasoned. I needed a chance to catch my breath. I wiped my face on the sleeve of my coat. There were snowflakes stuck in my eyelashes, and I blinked rapidly.

I hadn't been paying particular attention to my surroundings, but the hairs on my neck stood up when I heard laughter. Familiar laughter.