Mar 23, 2012

My Cousin's Name is Strontium, Too

I’d only been working two days at the Divine Steakhouse when this hulking Russian came in with a smelly wet package under his arm.
“Table for one?” I ventured.
He pocketed his sunglasses. One of his eyes was a violent bloody red.
“You smart, you leave now,” he said.


I'd like to think that this painting hung in the foyer of the Divine Steakhouse.

Ewelina Koszykowski

No comments:

Post a Comment