“I’m not a problem. I’m a solution.”
===
“Gotta go right now, sweetheart. Take care, forever.”
===
He lay on his back, loosened his belt, and used the leather to protect his fingers as he plucked two dozen sandburs from his hands and fingers. Hurt worse than when that dealer in Biloxi shot him. He had dozens more scratching at his legs, right through the denim.
===
“You’re gonna be all right, pal. We’ve seen worse than this at a Saturday night cockfight.”
===
“I got shot in the hip one time. Six inches over, would have hit me in the balls. Sort of clarified my thinking about shoot-outs.”
===
I’m standing in the desert in a pair of Cleverley calfskin loafers that are slowly melting into the sand, so you know . . . cherish the air-conditioning.

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