03_velvet_trap
The Velvet Trap The rain in Chicago does not wash things clean. It makes everything wetter. Veronica Malone sat in a booth at the back of a diner on South State Street, watching the rain trace dirty lines down the window, and tried to remember when exactly her life had become a series of bad decisions made by someone else. The answer was 1951, when she walked off a stage in Milwaukee and drove...
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