“I heard you’ve been training pretty hard,” Sean said as they nursed their mugs of Guinness in a dark corner of Barstow’s.
“Yeah.” Finn drew in a deep breath and steeled himself. “I want on the crew, Sean. I need to get back to work, back on the line.”
“You do, huh? Screenwriting didn’t work out so well?”
Finn laughed. He’d taken a c***k at the Miracle in Big Canyon screenplay and basically sucked at it. He’d spent several months holed up in Rollo’s guesthouse sweating it out over his computer before throwing in the towel. “I gave it a try. Writing’s a lot harder than it seems. I’ll take a Pulaski over a laptop any day.”
“How are you doing physically?”
Finn took a swallow of the smoky dark ale. “There’s still some pain. But it doesn’t hold me back. I’m still doing my rehab PT and I go
