Fistful of Reefer: ch.1

Cantinas on either side of the border fascinated Chancho—such important frivolousness. He cupped his shot of tequila, a Reposado rested in American oak, in the palm of his hand while listening to a collision of conversations. Not particularly fond of enclosed spaces, he shut his eyes.   Slurred English came from the direction of the … Read more Fistful of Reefer: ch.1