The rain on South Halsted Street had a particular smell in November. It smelled like wet asphalt and
The rain on South Halsted Street had a particular smell in November. It smelled like wet asphalt and old cigarettes and the kind of desperation that no amount of scrubbing can remove from a sidewalk. Frank Callahan stood under the awning of a closed storefront and watched the rain fall, his hands buried in the pockets of a coat that had belonged to his unit and had been passed down through...
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