32 Cadillacs (2009)
“that same Friday morning, Ephrem Poteet had paid and queued up for the first of the long open-sided buses to the tour’s backlot delights. It was just a week since the Great Cal-Cit Bank Massacre and already he had heard about it.
Poteet was late 30s and still handsome, sloe-eyed, well-built though starting to go paunchy. But by subtle alterations in his appearance, clothing, posture, and gait, he still could pass for any age between 25 and 50.
Today he was mid-40s, with a red bandana ar...ound his neck and a grey gunfighter’s mustache and powdered hair to glint silver below a white wide-brimmed ten-gallon cowboy hat like Tom Mix wore in the Saturday morning serials long before his birth.
He walked a little pigeon-toed in his cowboy boots, a bit bowlegged from aridin’ that old cayuse on the lone pray-ree.
He was also sober—a small triumph not entirely his own, because his latest thirty-day stretch in the county slam had ended just last week.MoreLess
Poteet was late 30s and still handsome, sloe-eyed, well-built though starting to go paunchy. But by subtle alterations in his appearance, clothing, posture, and gait, he still could pass for any age between 25 and 50.
Today he was mid-40s, with a red bandana ar...ound his neck and a grey gunfighter’s mustache and powdered hair to glint silver below a white wide-brimmed ten-gallon cowboy hat like Tom Mix wore in the Saturday morning serials long before his birth.
He walked a little pigeon-toed in his cowboy boots, a bit bowlegged from aridin’ that old cayuse on the lone pray-ree.
He was also sober—a small triumph not entirely his own, because his latest thirty-day stretch in the county slam had ended just last week.MoreLess
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