LAZY DOGS DANCE
By Barbara Rose Brooker
Copyright © 2011 by Barbara Rose Brooker
All rights reserved.
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It’s Friday morning. A slow fog drifts over San Francisco, turning the City into a pink haze. I’m sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the phone. It’s ten o’clock. My literary agent Lester always talks to New York by now. It’s quiet in the apartment building; most of the neighbors are at work.