The Chorus and The Bridge

Short Fiction

When I got out of prison I found myself an HVAC job. The guys on the crew hung out at a pool hall in a strip mall, with a glowing green awning that gave me a headache.

I found a little corner bar with a handpainted sign and a dusty neon light in the window that said quo, because the L, the I, and the R were fritzed out.

I was younger than most of the old-…