Chapter Six: The Girl that was not Quite Tessa The snow had begun to fall in earnest long before Tessa reached the first streetside motel she could find, somewhere down Brooklyn Bridge Boulevard. Though not a large dog, the weight of Pickles on one should...
Chapter One: The Beauty of Broken Things Kelso paused for the shot, because it was perfect. It was not the bridge over the river, cloaked in a rolling autumn fog, and it was not the distant, hazy forms of the buildings, gray against a grayer morning sky....
I sat at the bar uncomfortable, slouching over, my lower back sore. Behind me, the tawdry lights pumped and pulsed, a sea of bodies writhing together, the air hot and smelling of sweat, other human smells such as fake tan, makeup, various colognes, and pe...
