The View from the Stoop
(Act I: The Intruder) I’ve lived on this block in Brooklyn for forty years, and I’ve seen every kind of misery there is. I spend most of my days on my stoop, watching the world go by with a mixture of boredom and contempt. Then came the night of the Great Rain. A man in a charcoal suit—the kind that costs more than my house—stumbled out of a black car and practically fell into Leo’s yard. He...
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