Godless City
Spyder woke to rain chewing the tin roof and the smell of somebody else’s cigarettes. For a second he reached where Teresa used to be, fingers finding only cold sheet and a torn seam he kept promising himself he’d stitch. He lay there and listened until obligation got him upright.
His knees cracked when he swung them off the mattress. Forty-seven and already moving like a hinge in need of oil.
His knees cracked when he swung them off the mattress. Forty-seven and already moving like a hinge in need of oil.