St. Louis sucked. Everything about it. The people. The deteriorating infrastructure. The local television news crew. The constant stench of beer and urine. The radio stations. The transportation system. The stickiness. To make things worse, this was the third day of unrelenting rain. It was miserable.
Colin Hollingsworth II was swimming upstream in a funk of cooled vomit with his mouth wide open. In his good dreams, he is never in St. Louis. In his nightmares, he is always in St. Louis, and it’s always on fire.
He hated himself so much, and more than that, he hated the shitty decisions he made. For example, he chose to relocate here from Santa Fe, New Mexico. To think, Santa Fe sucked pretty hard. The idea of ratting out his workmates with damning testimony in exchange for the federal witness relocation program seemed nice. He sighed like a teenage girl.