the smuggler’s bible


The house is empty when Corine gets there. She leaves the second suitcase on the bed, empty, and hits the road.

She pulls over somewhere south of Norley for gas and omething to eat. In the parking lot she hesitates, then folds the top down and goes inside.

“Might rain,” the waitress tells her.

“Yeah, it might.”

“Oh, it’s that kind of thing. I get it.” She sets down a cracked white cup and pours from her carafe. “Listen, you aren’t going to be dramatic are you?”

“No, don’t worry,” Corine says, sipping her coffee. “That’s sort of the point.”