Eloise Gramine
The Banker stood at Eloise Gramine’s door, suitcase in hand, a doleful look spread across his face like rancid butter.
“Raven kicked me out. Can I stay until my next paycheck?”
Eloise stood aside; allowed The Banker to enter. She studied her slippers, noted the small tear along the right toe.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Dust moats slanted past the faded red curtains and shattered on the hardwood floor. “It’s good to see you.”
Read more here.
“Raven kicked me out. Can I stay until my next paycheck?”
Eloise stood aside; allowed The Banker to enter. She studied her slippers, noted the small tear along the right toe.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Dust moats slanted past the faded red curtains and shattered on the hardwood floor. “It’s good to see you.”
Read more here.
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