Black Gold
The rain in Los Angeles doesn't wash things clean. It just makes the dirt slicker. I was sitting in my office on Sunset, the kind of office that looks professional if you don't look too closely — fake plants, a desk that had been refurbished three times, a framed copy of the Bill of Rights that I'd picked up at a garage sale for two dollars. The radio was playing Nat King Cole, and the neon...
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