It was 5:00 PM and we were knocking off. The fog had slipped back to the ocean but now it was cascading back over the hills from Daly City. The Mexicans had long given up for the day and were gone to wherever they go.
“Why you doing this?” Skinny asked me.
“The wood has a life and a purpose of its own,” I replied.
“No, not that. I mean me. I tried to rob you.” Continue reading