Tuesday night I found an empty can of Freedom in the parking lot of the strip mall where I stopped to pick up a couple of avocados on my way home. They renovated the grocery store that anchors the shopping center last year, and took a stab at upgrading the tenants of the other spaces, but were only half successful, and it’s still one of those centers of American commerce where you can feel the collective desperation sweat out of the asphalt at the end of a long hot day, with cash stores and junk food and aftermarket parts to keep your car running so you can get to work the next day. And ice to keep your 12 ounces of Freedom cold enough to drink when you get off work, if you have it.
Thanks as ever, Chris.
Very Deep but beautifully written.
Whew! This is a dark one. But the writing is brilliant.