"Once more," Richardson said grabbing his hat and throwing it into the air. the  ball cap slid up through the air slicing the light from the moon and stars. The sky clear on a french night. The soft smell of a bakery near by.  All that one could hope for was in a night like this. And as I came back from thought. I could see the corners of my room. holes, beaten and torn. Here I am, lying around. in this **** smelling rat den. Where some coke head chose to go round two with his *****.