The Long Night on Canal Street
The rain in New York does not wash things clean. It just makes the dirt slicker. I learned that on my first night, standing at Grand Central Terminal with twelve dollars in my pocket and a one-way ticket burning a hole in my coat. I was twenty-five, six feet of Pennsylvania coal dust and stubbornness. My name is Jack O'Malley, and I had come to New York because there was nothing left in宾州—not...
0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 3 Views 0 Vista previa