The Glass Backseat
The rain had been falling on Los Angeles for three days straight. It turned the city into a watercolor painting—everything blurred at the edges, colors bleeding into each other until you couldn't tell where the sky ended and the street began. Jack Kelly sat in the Cadillac's backseat and watched the neon signs smear past the window. Pink. Blue. Red. They painted his face in shifting colors, and...
0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 4 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр