Archive March 2012

Whiskey and spit 2

Dear Bradshaw,

It was ten o’clock in the morning and I was almost at Yves’ house. He lives in a slightly seedy area on the other side of Rome. In fact, Francesca was meeting us later and had expressed concern about walking alone to his apartment from the metro.

“Are you kidding,” I’d told her. “At one o’clock on a Sunday afternoon? What could happen?” continue reading »

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