He sipped expresso and listened. To the Bronx, where late lunch a maze of boulevards dull eyes and thick jowls and neatly pressed suit. Every cafon' in the world who looked down on him for being Italian. A guinea. What did Dagos care about legal, not legal?
He sipped and listened. He remembered before he quit in 8th grade to help his father paint houses. In his class they made jokes about him. The grease ball, the wap.
|
someone touched her breasts he showed her if he could just go back |