Hell on Five Dollars a Day | Full PDF Download

Hell on Five Dollars a Day
by Greg Bulmash

Every guy in the room had what Alain called anger behind the eyeballs; cold eyes on hot heads. All of them would have been trying to put on poses, Alain included, if it weren’t for the fact they were all in hospital gowns that tied in the back. Tough-pose options are severely limited when you’re trying to keep a thin layer of cotton between your bare ass and a cold steel chair while not putting your balls on display. But the anger behind the eyeballs was there, maybe even intensified as compensation.

They were all tall, except Sampson. Alain found that ironic. Sampson was the fidget in the bunch, a street hustler. He’d been running a Three Card Monty game ever since he was tall enough to peer over the box. He was also the only negro.