The rain hadn't stopped for three days, and Jackie Lane was starting to think the city wanted her
She sat in her office on Sunset Boulevard, which was really just a closet with a desk and a typewriter that missed the letter Q, and stared at the empty glass of whiskey on her desk. It was ten in the morning. She had been up since six, drinking coffee that tasted like burnt dirt and trying to figure out how to pay rent. The eviction notice was taped to her door. The gambling debt was taped to...
0 Reacties 0 aandelen 7 Views 0 voorbeeld