The Observer in Brooklyn
I had been watching Jack O'Brien for three weeks before I figured out what he was. Before that, he was just the landlord. A disheveled Irishman in his late thirties with a perpetual five-o'clock shadow, wearing the same flannel shirt day after day, smoking cigarettes on the front steps at all hours. He collected my rent on the first of the month with a nod and a mumbled "How you doing, Marcus?"...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 4 Visualizações 0 Anterior