Solo - a short story by Keith Brooke Solo a short story by Keith Brooke R ecording . The swirling wind throws fistfuls of sleet through the darkness.
Yellow light spills out of the windows of the low, uniform buildings lined up along the track.
I hide behind a tree, keep my head steady as I pan left to right with the eyecam. On nights like this sensible people stay at home and, I confess, that's where I'd like to be right now. But there's a story to break, events to report. I keep my voice low. I've learnt already that this establishment is heavily guarded.