the smuggler’s bible


Somebody told Lino once that love is a virtue. Well, goddamnit, he thinks, that doesn’t mean it’s not for suckers.

The temperature drops as soon as the sun dips behind the hills and before long his breath is fogging in front of the rearview, blurring his vision. He hopes to Christ she can’t see the little lights burning on his dashboard.

Another virtue is discretion. Dignity, yet another. Suddenly, Lino begins to wonder if the definition of his character—the sharpest edge—is formed by the negative space where his virtues aren’t.

Or maybe, he thinks, you’re just an asshole.