I love the way his cynicism for life drips through even in the first sentence.
IT WAS SPRING. The vernal equinox had done whatever it was it did, and the late March air drifting in through the open window in my office was soft even though it wasn’t really warm yet. Spring training was under way in full tiresomeness, and opening day was two weeks off.
Parker, Robert B. - Sixkill
Been awhile since I read a Robert B. Parker book. I think the last one I read was Hugger Mugger and I remember my grandfather looking at it and saying "sounds like its about an overzealous prostitute." What I'm trying to do here is overwhelm myself with first person genre mysteries. It helps me get in the right frame of mind for my own book. Pretty soon I'll be out of this phase and I can get to some other types of books.
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