The Man in the Black Rain
ACT I The rain in Los Angeles did not fall so much as it hung, a perpetual grey curtain that turned the smog into something you could taste, a metallic film on the tongue that tasted like pennies and bad decisions. Jack "Mouse" Moretti had learned to taste it every morning when he woke up in his small apartment above a laundromat in downtown LA, the water running down the windowpane in thick,...
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