
It's the year 2004 A.D.
Juandre
At twenty-two, my existence was crusty. It was a Friday afternoon when I was racing like the Red Queen down the interstate from New York to Lexington, Kentucky, feeling like I would never reach my destination and, simultaneously,...

It's the year 2004 A.D.
Juandre
At twenty-two, my existence was crusty. It was a Friday afternoon when I was racing like the Red Queen down the interstate from New York to Lexington, Kentucky, feeling like I would never reach my destination and, simultaneously,...