The summer heat shimmered above the cracked asphalt of Indigo
Gardens, making the air dance like the dreams that rarely survived in
this place. A 1978 Chevy Caprice Classic rolled through the
development at a deliberately slow pace, its candy apple red paint job
gleaming defiantly against the backdrop of weathered brick buildings.
The bass from the car's speakers vibrated through the parking lot as
Jodeci's "Forever My Lady" announced the vehicle's presence long
before it came into view.
Behind the wheel, Shawn "Big Zoe" Williams guided the Caprice with
one hand, his other arm resting casually on the open window. He was
dressed impeccably as always—a crisp white linen shirt open at the
collar, revealing just enough of a thick gold chain to make a statement
without shouting it. His Ray-Ban sunglasses reflected the world
around him while revealing nothing of his own thoughts.
"Uncle Shawn, why we driving so damn slow?" Darius shifted
uncomfortably in the passenger seat, the leather sticking to the back of
his thighs. At seventeen, everything in his life moved too slowly,
especially when his uncle was behind the wheel. "And why we gotta
have this box of chicken on the dashboard? It's making the whole car
smell."
Big Zoe chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled from his chest. "That's
the point, nephew. That's the whole damn point." He adjusted the
position of the open KFC box slightly, ensuring the aroma wafted out
the windows. "See, some hunters use duck calls. Some fishermen use
fancy lures." He tapped his temple with one finger. "Me? I use
psychology."
Darius rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress his grin. "Psychology?
With chicken?"
1147633460
Gardens, making the air dance like the dreams that rarely survived in
this place. A 1978 Chevy Caprice Classic rolled through the
development at a deliberately slow pace, its candy apple red paint job
gleaming defiantly against the backdrop of weathered brick buildings.
The bass from the car's speakers vibrated through the parking lot as
Jodeci's "Forever My Lady" announced the vehicle's presence long
before it came into view.
Behind the wheel, Shawn "Big Zoe" Williams guided the Caprice with
one hand, his other arm resting casually on the open window. He was
dressed impeccably as always—a crisp white linen shirt open at the
collar, revealing just enough of a thick gold chain to make a statement
without shouting it. His Ray-Ban sunglasses reflected the world
around him while revealing nothing of his own thoughts.
"Uncle Shawn, why we driving so damn slow?" Darius shifted
uncomfortably in the passenger seat, the leather sticking to the back of
his thighs. At seventeen, everything in his life moved too slowly,
especially when his uncle was behind the wheel. "And why we gotta
have this box of chicken on the dashboard? It's making the whole car
smell."
Big Zoe chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled from his chest. "That's
the point, nephew. That's the whole damn point." He adjusted the
position of the open KFC box slightly, ensuring the aroma wafted out
the windows. "See, some hunters use duck calls. Some fishermen use
fancy lures." He tapped his temple with one finger. "Me? I use
psychology."
Darius rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress his grin. "Psychology?
With chicken?"
LIFE IN THE "GRAM"
The summer heat shimmered above the cracked asphalt of Indigo
Gardens, making the air dance like the dreams that rarely survived in
this place. A 1978 Chevy Caprice Classic rolled through the
development at a deliberately slow pace, its candy apple red paint job
gleaming defiantly against the backdrop of weathered brick buildings.
The bass from the car's speakers vibrated through the parking lot as
Jodeci's "Forever My Lady" announced the vehicle's presence long
before it came into view.
Behind the wheel, Shawn "Big Zoe" Williams guided the Caprice with
one hand, his other arm resting casually on the open window. He was
dressed impeccably as always—a crisp white linen shirt open at the
collar, revealing just enough of a thick gold chain to make a statement
without shouting it. His Ray-Ban sunglasses reflected the world
around him while revealing nothing of his own thoughts.
"Uncle Shawn, why we driving so damn slow?" Darius shifted
uncomfortably in the passenger seat, the leather sticking to the back of
his thighs. At seventeen, everything in his life moved too slowly,
especially when his uncle was behind the wheel. "And why we gotta
have this box of chicken on the dashboard? It's making the whole car
smell."
Big Zoe chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled from his chest. "That's
the point, nephew. That's the whole damn point." He adjusted the
position of the open KFC box slightly, ensuring the aroma wafted out
the windows. "See, some hunters use duck calls. Some fishermen use
fancy lures." He tapped his temple with one finger. "Me? I use
psychology."
Darius rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress his grin. "Psychology?
With chicken?"
Gardens, making the air dance like the dreams that rarely survived in
this place. A 1978 Chevy Caprice Classic rolled through the
development at a deliberately slow pace, its candy apple red paint job
gleaming defiantly against the backdrop of weathered brick buildings.
The bass from the car's speakers vibrated through the parking lot as
Jodeci's "Forever My Lady" announced the vehicle's presence long
before it came into view.
Behind the wheel, Shawn "Big Zoe" Williams guided the Caprice with
one hand, his other arm resting casually on the open window. He was
dressed impeccably as always—a crisp white linen shirt open at the
collar, revealing just enough of a thick gold chain to make a statement
without shouting it. His Ray-Ban sunglasses reflected the world
around him while revealing nothing of his own thoughts.
"Uncle Shawn, why we driving so damn slow?" Darius shifted
uncomfortably in the passenger seat, the leather sticking to the back of
his thighs. At seventeen, everything in his life moved too slowly,
especially when his uncle was behind the wheel. "And why we gotta
have this box of chicken on the dashboard? It's making the whole car
smell."
Big Zoe chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled from his chest. "That's
the point, nephew. That's the whole damn point." He adjusted the
position of the open KFC box slightly, ensuring the aroma wafted out
the windows. "See, some hunters use duck calls. Some fishermen use
fancy lures." He tapped his temple with one finger. "Me? I use
psychology."
Darius rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress his grin. "Psychology?
With chicken?"
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LIFE IN THE "GRAM"
LIFE IN THE "GRAM"
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Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940184524047 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Barnes & Noble Press |
| Publication date: | 06/24/2025 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 3 MB |
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