The Conqueror's Ledger
The rain in Los Angeles doesn't wash anything clean. It just makes the dirt slicker. I stood under the awning of the diner on Sunset Boulevard, watching the water run off the roof and mix with the oil and cigarette butts and whatever else had been on that sidewalk for the last hundred years. I had been standing there for twenty minutes, smoking a cigarette I didn't really want, thinking about...
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