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The case worker who had found Astrid's new placement was named Joan Peeler, and Astrid instantly liked her. She picked Astrid up from the center that morning, helped her carry her stuff out to her red dented Karmann Ghia with bumper stickers that said, Love your Mother, Move to the Light, Friends Don't Let Friends Vote Republican.
It was a perfect April day in L.A. when every photography in town was out scrambling for shots of the city with a bluebird sky and white-capped mountains and hundred-mile views. You coul dsee every palm tree on Wilshire Boulevard five miles away. Joan Peeler played a Talking Heads tape for the drive.
( And you can't drive around L.A. in fiction without detailing exactly which streets you're taking... )
“Tea is fine,” Astrid said.
[[ establishy! Taken and Fandomized a bit from Chapter 16 of White Oleander by Janet Fitch, which y'all are gonna be seeing a lot of soon ]]
It was a perfect April day in L.A. when every photography in town was out scrambling for shots of the city with a bluebird sky and white-capped mountains and hundred-mile views. You coul dsee every palm tree on Wilshire Boulevard five miles away. Joan Peeler played a Talking Heads tape for the drive.
( And you can't drive around L.A. in fiction without detailing exactly which streets you're taking... )
“Tea is fine,” Astrid said.
[[ establishy! Taken and Fandomized a bit from Chapter 16 of White Oleander by Janet Fitch, which y'all are gonna be seeing a lot of soon ]]
