The Fixer by A. S. Coomer

“Fuck does he know?” “‘Fuck does he know?’ He’s the motherfucking boss, Walt.” “Yeahyeah.” The men lifted the crate. Blue inked arms, sheening with sweat in the late August night, worked under the thin shaft of a propped flashlight. Like four pythons crawling outta barbershop, Wade thought. He readjusted the lens and snapped three more … Continue reading The Fixer by A. S. Coomer