Who are those guys?
Chapter 2 - John and I walked toward Clive’s studio apartment surrounded by a comfortable silence that best friends can afford. The palm trees lining the sidewalks glistened under the street lamps. The mist slipped off the leaves like oil taking the light in each drop of dew. I even noticed the paw prints of a cat that had walked in the freshly poured concrete years before. I would have never remembered such things had I not gone up those old enamel-navy-blue-sun-bleached-rotted-out-soggy-wooden stairs.