The distilled sweat of my brow


Day two. A panel from today's labors:

4. The bastard city shrinks in Avery’s rear view mirror. The tiny white blip of a private jet flies over the city at an upward angle.

CAP: Pa was right -- which is more or less my entire childhood --

CAP: All I see in my rearview is a fat grey puddle, steaming into mirage.

No comments:

Post a Comment