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Inside
Kenneth J. Harvey
Language: English
Pages: 304
ISBN: 0151014833
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
After fourteen years in prison, Myrden is released, proven innocent by new DNA evidence. Greeted by friends and enemies, and a wife who’d lost no time moving on while he was away, he is now unwittingly famous as he awaits a hefty financial settlement from the government. Myrden clings to his young granddaughter and to a girlfriend from his past, hoping that the money can free them all from the cycles of revenge and failure that have marked his life. But it’s not easy to leave the old neighborhood behind.
Written in prose that brilliantly reflects Myrden’s cautious evaluation of everyone and everything in the outside world, Inside pulls the reader forward with the quiet gravity of Greek tragedy.
Belle journée pour tomber en amour...
La Soliste (Docteure Irma, Tome 3)
way she touched her door with one hand. Touched her gun holster with the other. The man didn’t touch his holster. He was big. Walked forward without a care in the world. Big boots. Big arms dangling by his sides. He knew what was going on. He’d been there many times. The woman checked her hat. Gave it a tug. The man wasn’t wearing one. His hair was combed nicely. Recently clipped. Gelled. “Evening,” Randy said to them. The red and blue lights did strange things to their black uniforms. It made
booze had washed out. A flood over earth. He had been trying to talk with his granddaughter all night. But others had taken him away from her. Others who wanted thoughts on his feelings. How much did he hate those people? What was he going to do to Grom? Who really killed her then? That woman. What was her name again? Doreen Something? That night. Who did it? Eyes on him. They all had thoughts on it. Easy thoughts for them. His daughter, Jackie, mother of his granddaughter, had been worried. She
kept going. She had work to do. Her hobby. Nothing to do with him. He couldn’t even begin to imagine. * He had developed a taste for the black beer in her fridge. It was in tall cans. Strong and bitter. But like a meal. The taste of coffee in it. Good breakfast material. Unfortunately there were only three cans. He’d finished them off by lunchtime. Playing the piano. It was getting easier and easier. Fingers soft on the keys. Remembering. Half note. Quarter note. Eighth note. Running higher.
From Caroline. He learned things. Then he remembered. Her best friend, Pam. Pam lived in the east end. Had two kids. Nice house. No husband. Caroline went there sometimes. To play. He got the real estate agent to pick one out. One street over. A quiet cul de sac. No fast cars going through there. The neighbours were busy. Work and then leisure. Kept to themselves. If she didn’t want it he’d give it to someone else. There were plenty of people who could do with a house. Plenty of people who
Reasonable furniture. The rugs well used. People had come and gone. Plenty of people. From all over the world. The young man at the desk was busy. In a dark green uniform. He wasn’t friendly. Not even trying. Efficient. This was enough. Couldn’t care less about them. He was busy. But he wasn’t rude. He spoke quickly. Made motions with his hands for them to come nearer. “Sí,” he said. When he was done with them he clapped his hands together. Almost smiled. Nodded. “Enjoy.” That was it. He wasn’t
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