(no subject)
Pete put a quarter in the small black cash box by his bed and twisted the knob. He lay, supine, as the world under him quaked and shimmied. He squinted his eyes up at the plaster pocket ceiling, and reflected on the whole mysterious reconnoiter trip to Cincinnati. Staking out Frisch’s, and then Cheviot Machine and Screw, meandering up the abstruse corridors of Cincinnati to Clifton.
Finding Carmine Calamari, that sad Detroit mook - that crazy wiseguy dressed up as a squatter punk.
As the bed shook, Pete remembered a year ago, back when he somehow was implicated in the 30 Days of Death sequence. Pete had come a long way, baby.
But what about this Lake Me Situation?
William Comparetto
© 2007