Short and sweet, sometimes an image alone, sometimes a few sentences, then the image. It's all entertainment.
“I couldn’t even begin to explain,” she told him.
Someone blew their horn. The toll keeper leaned out of his booth and examined the line of cars. The Mid-town was backed up all the way into Manhattan. There’d been some kind of robbery in the city. To make matters worse, only his lane accepted cash; the rest were Ezy-Pass.
She handed him a
He had worked for the Ninth at one time, the Lower East Side Precinct and lived somewhere down Sixth between C and D. Walked his dog, Esther, every morning, a chihuahua-pit bull mix, and stood on the corner of 7th and B to finish his cigarette. You didn't need to turn on 1010 WINS if he was there, didn't need
Mr. Pinsler knew exactly what happened, or thought he knew. There had been a blinding flash, then a boom, then another flash. The woman, well, her bosoms were momentarily exposed; the material of her blouse having been pulled to one side when she did this kind of uh-uh thing with her hips and, well, kapowie-zowie.
The terminal was crammed as tight as a new pack of cigarettes. From his vantage in the balcony, Belkins was able to see O’ Malley sitting in the Panorama, gun and hat resting on the bar, drinking what looked like a Pina Colada with a little umbrella. For once, O’ Malley couldn’t see him or if he had, was pretending not to notice.
