Platinum Haze
A vinyl record chirps out the chocolaty smooth baritone of Nat King Cole and his 1960 album, The Magic of Christmas, as we’re processed, lifting the precinct’s normally dingy atmosphere to something almost magical. Thing is though, the steel cuffs around my wrists aren’t at all about that magical, ‘Deck the Hall,’ cheer. They prefer sucker punches of ball-busting reality and the sphincter tightening nature of repeated threats to phone my ma. And yet, that dichotomous mood of steel cuffs and...
Humor