Storyteller - Linda Rettstatt

Sample: Worthy Worthy sat on the squeaky, rusting metal glider and put another pinch of snuff in his cheek. It was gonna rain-his hip was tellin' him so. He watched the boys across the street in front of the package store, shootin' craps and sippin' out of brown paper bags. He instinctively licked his lips. A little taste would be good right now. It didn't seem so long ago that Worthy was one of those young men, back when a bottle was only fifty cents, and you didn't have to bother with the bag.Every so often, a car cruised by, the muffler rattling loudly. The driver would stop, and one of the boys would walk to the window, where he and the driver would exchange pleasantries-and other things. This caused Worthy to think of his grandson, Isaiah. He'd lived right here and died-right over there-the innocent victim of a drug deal gone bad.Worthy heard the rumble and looked up to see the clouds getting darker and thicker. It was fixin' to be a bad one, he figured. He breathed in the heavy air as deeply as his old lungs would allow.>*NO AI was used in the production of this book.)