The Lonesome Buffalo (part 1)
December didn't go well. There's something about the grays and browns of winter that make cold loneliness come out in full color. Christmas was bought with illegal means and the gifts had no more value than the torn paper that had covered them. I never liked Christmas holidays anyway. It was just a time to drink and dream about how good things would be next spring. Mid January found me looking through the newspaper for a job. The listing asked for eight men and eight women willing to travel, in...
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