The Long Night on 142nd Street
I. The bus dropped me at 125th Street and I walked the rest in rain that wasn't quite rain—more like the sky had given up on the distinction between water and something worse. Seven years. Seven years in Sing Sing and what do I have to show for it? A suit that fits wrong, a head full of things I can't unthink, and a city that has moved on without me like I was a bad check that bounced. The man...
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