Wedding photos shadowed her from the walls as she drifted down the dark hallway to her office. She pulled an appointment book form her desk, found the skeleton line of seven o’clock Thursday and penciled in the name Scootie Jones. The book resembled a graffiti-covered subway car, pushing air through the stations with its hours and people and causes. But she never actually got anywhere. She just rode.
Posted on: Sun, 16 Jun 2013 21:07:55 +0000
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