Sep 23, 2020
1 min read
The Blue Door
Centina
Randy walked out into the wet night, a raincoat draped around his shoulders. He noticed a silvery gleam to streetlights and cars as he headed into moonlight and rain.
Walking to the Blue Door, he hoped it was still open after all these years.
They’d made the best red beans and rice — heavy on the cumin, light on the cheese.
