Fate strolls into my evening, and into my bed.
So there was I, at the Coyote Inn. It’s a small bar on the lonely streets of Bramville, and the only bar, Bramville can boast of. Bramville is a very small town and not many families live here. It is a home to those numerous men, who work in the nearby industrial estates and reside here in small and squalid houses. Coming to myself, I am a 24 year old country-boy who is new to this town....Read On