“On the Bus” by Nathan Ward
New York was scruffier then; everywhere you saw signs of its humbling in its bald park lawns and strobe-popping Broadway head shops . . .
New York was scruffier then; everywhere you saw signs of its humbling in its bald park lawns and strobe-popping Broadway head shops . . .
To celebrate the release of St. Louis Noir, the latest from Akashic’s Noir Series, we’re pleased to give you a behind-the-scenes look at the collection with editor Scott Phillips’s introduction, “High and Low Collide.”
“Man gon’ fry out there,” Kinfolk said. He sipped from the tall boy of Hurricane and passed it to Sam . . .
The body didn’t belong in the freezer. It belonged in the Pasadena sunshine, skateboarding down the uneven sidewalks, cycling around McDonald Park, kicking a soccer ball around the Rose Bowl . . .
The next morning Anoush left so early with Baba Bijan that the chill of the night air still hung over the desert . . .
Elizabeth didn’t know what to do. Go along with the kid holding the knife and the other kid with the gun? Lie? Try to escape? . . .
Progress. Ronald laughed ruefully at the concept. Sure, yeah, that’s what he was looking at. Or a physical manifestation of it anyway . . .
Me and Tino are sitting in the bay window of the lobby. Our building, like the other brown, seven-storied buildings around it, is really majestic just people never take the time to look at it . . .