1063 3 4
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Sunday, Nolan and I drop by the ice rink on 10th and Alma to watch the amateur hockey leagues battle it out in an unspoken yet assumed class war: the buff, unemployed rink bums who can grind ice, cross-check, and stick handle like the pros, versus the dou
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30511
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When I left, Phil dropped to his knees and grabbed my ankles with his hands. His face was red and ugly from crying. “Wait!” he kept saying. “Let’s just talk for a minute!” But we’d already talked. We’d talked and talked and talked. The only thing left to
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71345
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the beeps, rhythmic,
tell us that you're still with us
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64000
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I had committed the perfect crime, and I had left nothing to chance; my best strategy was chancing nothing. Prudence and planning were my only allies, and these are the best allies of success. Usually.
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