It may be that I deserve daggers most of all for things Gio doesn’t know.
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I crossed the Alps today. Except they looked like corn flakes bobbing in a bowl of milk.
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Dear Rev. Kang, I should’ve sent a postcard from Amsterdam, I know. Six weeks was a long time.
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Joy to the world?
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“HOFFMAN JACKED ON PCP! CALL FAIRFAX PD! BE THERE AT 8.”
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The miraculous, disastrous path to Table 10 begins just south of the Soviet border, nine-thousand clicks from Fairfax.
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