What the Snow Remembers
Jimmy's arm was bleeding on the asphalt behind the gas station.Billy found him sitting on the curb, right arm pressed hard against the left forearm, blood seeping through his fingers in steady dark drops. The snow around him was pink. A pickup truck idled in the parking lot, its heater running, its driver's side door open and empty."What happened?" Billy asked. He was thirty-four, hungover, and...
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