“The System Never Fails” by Spencer Fleury
The dog track was never in our plans for the evening. Scott’s system was for jai alai, not dogs, and tuition for the fall semester was due tomorrow, so he needed to raise it tonight . . .
The dog track was never in our plans for the evening. Scott’s system was for jai alai, not dogs, and tuition for the fall semester was due tomorrow, so he needed to raise it tonight . . .
I could hear the music clearly from Legends Corner. Even the laughter of a few thousand drunken tourists was audible . . .
It’s not there anymore. It was only a short walk from the Chelsea Hotel to Eleventh Avenue. I loved that old saloon . . .
Rachel warmed her hands on the cup at my kitchen table. “Daniel came over last night,” she said. “You call the cops?” . . .
Teammates on the Watertown High hockey team called them The James Brothers. James Rogers was a blue-eyed white teenager while James Brook was the only African American on the team. The two friends were inseparable and after high school graduation, they decided to hitchhike together across the USA . . .
We’re parked at the end of a long driveway. Pristera wags a finger at me. “Stay in the car . . . “
Lars Thompson opened the fridge and looked for something to eat. It had been several days since he’d had a real meal that didn’t come from a garbage can . . .
Now that R.I.P knew how to achieve his goal, he just had to find the means. So he got into his clunker of a car, which was parked on one of Detroit’s countless seedy, run-down streets littered with as many broken streetlamps as broken dreams . . .