The track finished playing. Jamin looked at the pale, freckled kid in front of him, so obviously out of place in this shrine to the hip-hop greats, and asked, “Did you write that song?”
When I turned 34, I decided to write a series of short stories. The only catch? Each story had to be 34 words. 34 years, 34 words. No more, no less. These are the fruits.