Page 179 - THE ATTACK ON THE FERRISWHEEL- 200 PAGES FREE OFFER

light as possible – as well as the wonderful view. He wanted to make his atelier

appear as a walk-in store. His great-grandfather's old atelier was further down
the street; it was a combination of a grocery store and photo studio. Fortunately,

no one remembers his great-grandfather anymore, and the grocery store has

now been transformed into new flats.
As he is sitting, drinking an espresso, he ponders on how to get the next

customers. In the mist of his daydreaming, a BMW M5 in royal blue has just

parked outside. A tall, well-dressed man with blond hair, large and round
sunglasses, a tight-fitting black leather jacket and burgundy chinos jumps out of

the vehicle, while holding a cell phone in which he eagerly communicates. After
he has locked the car door, he goes back and forth in front of the studio's two

large façade-windows as he continues to talk on the phone. He has a serious look

on his face, when he gesticulates, it’s measured in short and swift movements,
and he occasionally makes a curved expression in which he pulls the right side of

his mouth up and closes the eye on top. A little further down the street, a silver

grey Porsche Cayenne is parked; there aren’t many parking spaces anymore. This
really isn’t a rush hour – in fact there rarely is here, but the cobbled street and its

inhabitants are getting more and more used exclusive and very expensive car
parking and driving on the street every day. The lure must be the high-class

boutiques that attract a certain crowd of people. There’s constantly discreet flow

of individuals who can afford to buy from the shops - expensive chocolate or lush
flower bouquets, which are some of the main attractions here.

When Mathias looks out the other end of the street, his field of view reveals

high-end clothing brands, even some brands that he is not familiar with. The few
times he wandered into one of the stores, the prices have been hysterically high.

Any purchase would be utterly unrealistic for him with his almost non-existent

revenue from photo business. One time he discreetly, almost apologetically,
walked backwards out the shop while muttering something to the extend of "if

you needed a photographer, my studio is down the street."

The guy in Porsche seems to be in a hurry; his whole being exudes efficiency
and busyness. His face is flat looking, but with a fashionable grey-tipped beard

neatly cut down; he is not tall, but rather broad in body type, arguably a head
lower than the light haired guy, but he’s sportier, stronger. His hair is darker,