All in Fiction
A yellow taxi took a left onto Las Vegas Boulevard and began to crawl sluggishly down towards the famous Strip. Lydia stared at the palm trees and neon signs gliding by the window with a wide smile on her lips, mesmerized by the dance of colorful lights and dark shadows between them.
What a waste, officer Ford thought as he let his eyes wonder yet again across the utterly devastated hotel room. Or what was left of it. Bullet holes riddled the walls to the extent that most of the dark green and yellow striped wallpaper had been ripped off. Pieces of original paintings littered the floor with the remains of several large armchairs, a conference table, and what had once been a black briefcase full of money.
For me, this podcast has become a treasure trove of awesome new stuff that I can pretend to be an expert on in order to impress my friends. Which is exactly what I plan to try and do with you, our dear readers of BTSB!
