By Michael Laimo
Frank Ballaro, police detective, is retiring almost immediately. Or is he? A path of blood at the shrink open air his condo results in an alley the place younger males were significantly mutilated. yet they're now not useless. anything retains them alive. within the arms of 1 is a wierd item, anything he holds onto for expensive lifestyles. whatever he calls...atmosphere.
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Extra resources for Atmosphere
A boy – Clarik, I realized a moment later – had turned the corner and was strolling in our direction, hands pushed into his pockets. I watched him, unable to look away. He was dressed in baggy black jeans and a white T-shirt that pulled tight against his biceps. He hadn’t colored his hair, I noticed. The brown waves tumbled over his forehead and ears. He was half-Goth, half-preppy, and it looked good on him. My pulse tripped into overtime. It felt like it had been weeks since I’d last seen him, but it had only been a day.
I’d never – never! ” “Linnie. Please. Listen to me. I –” “Shut up. ” “Linnie, please. ” I’d said I wouldn’t try and explain to anyone else. Not again. But here I was, unable to stop myself and desperate to make her believe me. “She’ll tell you. We’re stuck in a game. ” “That’s funny, because she was laughing about you and your claim when I talked to her. ” She laughed? Mercedes had laughed about the game? I scraped my nails over the surface of my desk. That bitch. “You have to remember –” “Do me a favor.
A way to convince my friends they really loved me – mystery. And I freaking hated mysteries! What the hell time was it now? I glanced at the clock on my computer for the thousandth time and pushed out a relieved breath. Couldn’t be much longer now. M. Lying on the softness of the mattress, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and fingered my dad’s pocketknife. I’d taken it. Just in case. I only prayed I didn’t need to use it. Moonlight slithered past my curtains, crimson mixed with gold. What time would Mercedes get here?
Atmosphere by Michael Laimo