Wet glass mirrors my face under the streetlight. Blue beanie clings, ridiculous. Cold seeps into bones. Fingers numb. Bus shelter hums with exhaustion: silent students, man in long gray coat, black briefcase gripped tight, old…
The hotel room smelled of stale air and cheap cleaner. Suburb spot, anonymous as hell. I arrived early, heart hammering. Room 36, not 14. Scribbled a fake ’14’ on paper, jammed it under the door…
Frane’s cramped bedroom reeked of sweat and antibiotics. I lay there, sheets soaked, head pounding from the fever. 39.5 degrees. She burst in after selling her Vlaminck, cheeks flushed with cash high. No robe. Black…
October evening. Narbonne to Paris. Smooth traffic. I pull into the service station for gas and coffee. Espresso in hand, eyes scan the room. She enters. Mid-twenties. Long dark ponytail. Tall, slim, endless legs in…