I hit the undercarriage with that purple foam and let it all soak in. Customer already outside leaning against a tree, watching his Audi like a hawk. Like I’m gonna heist it or something. Shit, rich people problems. I raise my hand high, wave it around a bit. Ready. The signal. We all have our own. Some do a loud whistle (but I could never whistle too good). Others pump their fist in the air like they were bouncing at the club. I like to keep it simple. Customer moves in

Her new habitat had been untouched for years. Decades, perhaps. The fauna orgiastically entwined around her form. Brittle branches...

Ronnie hung over a sea of green. The pain in his lower back non-existent. A combination of deep concentration and self-medication. The...