Galilee Buerger
Stories (2/0)
Stefi
His mama called him "Stefi", short for Stefano. She never learned to speak English, but that was hardly necessary as an Italian immigrant in 1930s New York city. All their neighbors spoke Italian, and the ones that didn't weren't worth talking to anyway. Home was a Mott Street apartment building. When you got down the stairs to the ground floor there was a butcher shop on one side, and a mortuary on the other. To your left they're wrapping up some fresh cut beef, and on the right someone's crying their eyes out.
By Galilee Buerger3 years ago in Criminal
His Father's Book
A final chord rang out into the atmosphere signaling the end of the hymn, but long before, the pews of the small chapel had begun to empty. Henry Wilkes was dead, and the world was all the better for it, though no one would have dared to admit it aloud.
By Galilee Buerger3 years ago in Humans