The place is so packed and choked with smoke that there's no sanctuary even in this little corner. Fat asses bump into me as they grind through the narrow passage into the dark recess in the back. Some drunk babbles at me -- government conspiracy, lost fingers to a loan shark, some stupid shit. I just look up at the pipes on the ceiling and wish for death.
(from the novel The Pacific Between)
Category: Ray, Writing, Fiction, Pacific Between