The Golden Downtown
The glass facade of the Apex Center does not reflect the sky. It reflects the street, the pedestrians, the gray wool coats, the wet pavement. You stand in the lobby, your shoes polished to a shine that feels like a crime. You are eleven. You are holding your father’s hand. His grip is tight, white-knuckled, trembling. He smells of cheap cologne and old sweat, a scent that clings to the back of...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare