a story from my collection 'Out of the Blue'
Just days after MJ celebrated his thirtieth year in America, the foreman gripped his hand, muttered that things were slack-the recession had bitten and the building boom had burst. Known as "The Hound," the foreman looked MJ in the eye and said he wished he had better news: sorry, there's no more work after Friday.
“And I've been with…
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