Just finished a story. Here is an excerpt:
"
Little metallic scrapes and clicks cause me to keep a constant eye over my shoulder the entire two-mile walk. By the time I get to the square the air smells cold and the LED streetlights fire up. This place still teems with its plague of schizophrenic zombies. Lord knows I could use a fat glass of black whiskey to warm my bones and hide from my troubles right about now, but the coins jingling in my pocket aren't enough to deliver on that fortune tonight."
"Wtf" you say? Well, I suppose you could use some context and the story could use a good bit of editing but...I'll get to both of those some other time.
In the mean time let's live some life.
Ciao 4 niao.