Her wavy, shoulder-length hair was the colour of polished mahogany.
Normal? Hateful word, normal. No meaning whatsoever.
It’s usually some badass makes a young girl’s heart beat faster.
I like your eyes when you get mad,” I said. “They glow like embers.
All along the avenue, cotton candy stands, fun houses, and games of chance were tightly shuttered, like clowns without makeup.
Demerol made it all seem okay.