…“We’re set for tomorrow?” he asks. It’s not a question.
“You fly out at 6:36 p.m…I confirmed late arrival with The Bellagio and lunch with your niece.” Niece, my ass. She didn’t sound eighteen. More like my age, thirty… <<read more>>
watch for this piece to appear in People of Few Words, Vol. IV, to be published in 2012
Great Site…
I love your writing…