Jan 24
6 min read
From Her Pocket
Ronin staggered to the other side of his hotel room to grab a beer from the fridge. Cracking it, he assessed the situation. The room was a mess. Empty beer bottles were everywhere. At some point during the night, they spilled a bag of potato chips on the floor and trampled over them instead of cleaning up after themselves. A cold microwave burrito sat near his laptop.
