In the Bus Bag
Writing My Wrongs: Life, Death, and Redemption in an American Prison, by Shaka Senghor
Tag Archives: Flying Fish
I’m already home from the party, and the last bus hasn’t even left my brother’s street yet. Shoot, the second-to-last bus hasn’t even left. The party was fun, even though I was the only woman there for the first two hours. One of Jeremy’s friends (who also happens to be a bartender at Flying Fish) made a big tub of hurricane punch. I only had one cup, but that was enough to make me grateful for the designated driver (one of the may perks of the bus-chick lifestyle).
© 2015 Carla Saulter. All Rights Reserved.