Love Under GrAy Skies

It was cold that day, colder than usual for October. I sat in my office, staring out the window at the ash colored sky, waiting for a client. Despite my current state, the work had been as brisk as the weather lately. The fall months always seem to start the bad times for relationships. Maybe it was the way the days always seemed gray, or the fact that people felt the holidays coming in. Whatever it was, you could count on the fact that for every spring wedding there was an autumn divorce.

My name's Clark, Whisper Clark, and I'm a private investigator. The name Whisper was a gift from my grandmother. I'm told I was quiet as a baby, hardly ever cried, made a fuss, or even laughed. My grandmother said that God must have whispered a secret to me before I was born and that I didn't want to accidentally let it out. My mom thought that was funny and took to calling me Whisper. The name stuck, and thirty-six years later here I am.

I landed the P.I. gig after getting kicked off the police for insubordination. I've been accused of being an decent man on a couple of occasions. Although, the longer I stay in the city, the less I feel that anyone can be called decent, especially me.

Anyway, as I said, it was cold that day, and I felt a chill as the door to my office opened. I turned around to look at another potential client. I was staggered. I once saw a woman who could have been the reincarnation of Marilyn Monroe. I have seen women so stunning that I would have given ten years of my life to be with them. Hell, I have even been stoned out of my mind and seen visions of angles. But, I have never seen a woman so incredible as the woman who walked in that day.