rain in August mingled with coffee in the cup of Joe. old wheat fields behind the station had been replaced by corn fields behind the cemetery. new wounds that were not enough patches used, nor were they married them. Joey felt the hand of Mr. V. Between his. but it was cold. His hand was warm and the only heat he adored the little Joey.l 'smell of tobacco and caffeine on their hands who wore on his face like a mask. photographic negatives and fish eyes and the black and white like old movies. perhaps that was the hand away from her, Joey. trembled at the idea. trembling. maybe it was not that time. no, it was not.
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