Kelly parked his black 2006 Mustang two blocks from the club. The car, like himself, had seen better days. It was a present, a nice send off for a high velocity future that never arrived. The slush, the mileage, the lack of maintenance, showed, just like it did on himself.
Another night at the Blue Grotto, looking like goon. He had a loose leather jacket he wore to work, and only to work. It was like half a cow, but he’d found it in a Vancouver thrift store way back, by some miracle. Maybe it had been Big Country’s, once upon a time?