The Glass Eye of Rain City
The rain in Los Angeles doesn't wash anything clean. It just makes the grime slicker. I know this because I've been watching it hit the pavement through both eyes for twenty-six years. The right one is glass, though. That's the part that matters. They called it a prosthetic. The Navy called it a replacement. The man who fitted it in a basement in Long Beach called it a prototype. I call it a...
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