South of Broad.

This is what I am reading right now. Pat Conroy! Every sentence he writes is a work of art! Pure poetry. Clear pictures.

"Cleo was a fast talking Greek girl who ran the cash register as though she were reloading an M16 rifle for snipers."
and
"In all the days since that unkillable day, neither my mother nor my father, nor any shrink or social worker, nor priest or nun, nor relative or friend of the family, could show me the pathway to a normal productive life with that ghoulish entry visa affixed to my passport."
and
"I could not have made my mother smile if I had exchanged arm farts with the Pope in the Sistine chapel."

Excuse me,
I have to go read now.