the smuggler’s bible

Grady

Grady’s car blows a tire in the middle of the night out on Interstate 95.

And so what if it isn’t a crossroads? He’s pissed off and soaked by the rain and digging through the trunk for a wrench that might not even be there. It’s an awful lot to deal with, so he pitches a Hail Mary and offers his soul to the devil if he can just get a little help turning his life around.

“Sure, kid, I’m listening,” says the white-suited figure in the back seat. “But I’ve seen your Instagram. Some shit simply can’t be fixed.”