"Hurrying to the curb, I hailed a cab. I found a wool hat in my pocket, pulled it on. The rain plastered it to my scalp in seconds. Waving a frail old hand, I watched the first taxi pass—bastard—maybe he’d seen the makeup. Another taxi lunged toward the curb. I tugged the heavy door open and climbed in. My hip throbbed like a gunshot wound, and now my right shoulder had begun to ache for attention."
~ G.
Wells Taylor - WILDLCOWN
HIJACKED