He used to beat she like a snake. When he done, she skin so black and blue and swell she look just like the Southern Main Road. . .
Tag: Mondays Are Murder
A riderless horse clopping with hungry purpose down the block was not such a rare sight on that part of the West Side then. . .
The dog track was never in our plans for the evening. Scott’s system was for jai alai, not dogs, and tuition for the fall semester was due tomorrow, so he needed to raise it tonight . . .
I could hear the music clearly from Legends Corner. Even the laughter of a few thousand drunken tourists was audible . . .
It’s not there anymore. It was only a short walk from the Chelsea Hotel to Eleventh Avenue. I loved that old saloon . . .
Gazing down at the farmhouses in the valley below, feeling the wind whipping against his face, Mr. Hawkins thought: I wonder if I’ll be able to breathe on the way down. . .
Rachel warmed her hands on the cup at my kitchen table. “Daniel came over last night,” she said. “You call the cops?” . . .
In four years William had read through countless declarations of affection and promises of riches, searching for the one. Here it was at last: the love he’d been waiting for . . .