Added July 10, 2014

Death is my beat. I make my living from it.

Book
The Poet
Michael Connelly
Published 1996 Book
Older The minute you die you start to fade from the world and from the memories of the people who knew you. In a generation or two you're an old picture your great-grandchildren can no longer identify.
Newer I am the police. And I'm here to arrest you. You've broken the law.

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Created by Chris Rhee in Brooklyn, NY. Updated from everywhere.

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