Allatross spoke to the silence, some nights.
That’s something I’d change if I had it to do over. But I don’t, obviously.
Shelly stared through the mist at the red neon in front of her, not quite ready to concede that this was it. She’d got used to things not making sense down here but this was getting way beyond weird.
His voice was so fucking calm. Just a layer of false sympathy. It had to be false.
This year, the restaurant was in London.
As soon as he walked into the Save Mart, I knew the truth.
Recipe For the Perfect New Year’s Eve