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Post by ♚COLUMBA on Jun 26, 2011 5:15:47 GMT -5
I woke to smoke and the sour smell of alcohol. Last night came back like a punch to the face - just like every other night before it. But that's what life's like in Brack, the city so rotten not even the Nazi's wanted a piece of it. You bust your neck looking for some John who ran off with Crying Jane's jewels, or her best friend, and all the thanks you get is a slap on the wrist from cops so crooked they're practically walking sideways. Come home half dead, kill the other half with a bottle in hand - ah, the daily grind.
Not everyone lives this way, but it seems my life's been a scratched record, just going over the same bumps again and again and again. Who knows? If I'd rolled the dice a little differently, I could be a cushy cop with a fat paycheck from the mafia. Hell, I could be dangling off the arm of some dame like a diamond bracelet! I can't say if this is Fate's work or not, but Lady Luck sure likes to stick her fingers in other people's business.
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