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Blog Post #111: Supposed to be the Truth

Gafford steered a car to a curb and parked and then watched Clifton gaze out a window at a brownstone.

Cal dragged a bag to a grain silo’s base. “Yeah, this spot’ll do.” He dropped the bag. “Okay, James, bring

Laundry basket in hand, Randle dashed down a staircase and along a hall past several apartment doors and then watched

A candle flickered on a cast-iron votive stand, and hands clasped, Mildred stood, gazing into a flame. “That ol’ stand

Glaring at Trever, Fedler pounded a table and leaned over it, and Simmons smashed a cigarette butt into an ashtray