“At daylight I thumbed a ride with a gaunt gypsy trucker with shoulder-length hair and a death’s head earring. It was 6.30 and his eyes were wide open, and he was listening to a metal band sing about the highway to hell.

‘I know that highway pretty good,’ I told him.

He grinned and handed me some crystal.’

Fred Willard, Down on Ponce.


Загрузка...