EIGHT YEARS. All that time, I"ve waited. When would that day come, the day they find me? A couple of times the cops must have seen the heels of my shoes on the way out. I"ve been lucky, so far. Working off the books, working hard and keeping my head down has kept me out of trouble, or the electric chair. The two men in the corner are paying too much attention.
EIGHT YEARS.Not many students leave college with a back-up marketable skill, or a need to work to get through the four years. I did. The demand for short order cooks has kept me in a position to rabbit when the walls closed in. Still, I wonder what"s happening in the real world, my real world.
“Hey, Kraut, you got that order yet?”
“Scotch-Irish on my mother"s side, and hybrid English on my father"s. And who are you calling a Kraut
