Crocodile Tears
Mercedes Rosende, translated by Tim Gutteridge
"In prison, everything is dense"
"Kid Guthrie—I’m sorry, Andrew Guthrie—my pint-sized young protégé at the paper and I went to the memorial auditorium for Larry McKnight’s speech in November."
"Once a week this summer, Bobby Santovasco and his best pal Zeke head down by the Belt Parkway to throw things at the cars getting off at the Bay Parkway exit near Ceasar’s Bay shopping center."
"I escaped Romania in the middle of the night, by bike, on February 2, 1965."
"'Come on, Erik!' Josh's sneakers disappeared over a mussel-encrusted rock ridge left exposed by the low tide."
"The fifth-floor hallway was darker than reported, and there was an awkward dogleg near the stairwell that their local recon hadn’t bothered to map; it smelled of garlic, mold, and dry rot even though the hotel was billed as a Byzantine five-star."
"Lynch leaned back in his chair after he slipped his phone back in his jacket pocket."
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