The Wistful Dinner
The gray paste smells of iron. That is the first thing you notice when the spoon touches your lips. It is a metallic tang, sharp and cold, like the taste of a penny held too long against the tongue. You are Elias Thorne. You are thirty-four years old. You work the night shift at the Halloway Meatpacking Plant in Chicago. It is November, 1923. The wind off the lake cuts through the thin walls of...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 4 Views 0 Anteprima