L.a. Blues
February, 1984
It was the middle of winter. I was sweaty and hot."Come on, Cynthia," yelled Rita, "get that goddamned ball over the net for a change. Pretend it's an editor's head."I hit the goddamned ball and seven subsequent ones and then decided to collapse in the sand and soak up some rays. The Marina Del Rey volleyball team could get along without me.I lay on the beach silently for at least five minutes, staring up at the beautiful blue sky, listening to the gentle whispers of the ocea...
