9
The darkness broke her heart. Many people would probably say Floyd’s had always been a depressing place. Harlow wouldn’t.
At this time of night, the sign outside, above the corner door, should be illuminated. Light should be emanating from the upstairs windows and seeping through the cracks around the shutters on the lower floor.
Floyd’s had never been well lit. In fact, even she’d have called it dark. But it was different now. The life had gone from the place. The illumination of the bar, the jukebox, and the dull light on the ceiling fans was gone.
The corner door was nailed shut and she didn’t have a crowbar with her this time. The side-alley door could still work, not that it mattered, she didn’t have her keys with her. There was some kind of irony that when she went around to th
