Scar Tissue [antikvár]

Introduction rm sitting on tlie couch in the living room of my house in the Hollywood Hills. It's a clear, crisp January day, and from my vantage point, I can see the beautiful expanse known as the San Fernando Valley. When I was younger, I subscribed to the conventional wisdom, shared by everyone who lived on the Hollywood side of the hills, that the Valley was a place where the losers who couldn't make it in Hollywood went to disappear. But the longer I've lived here, the more I've come to appreciate the Valley as a soulful and quieter side of the Los Angeles experience. Now I can't wait to wake up and look out on those majestic mountain ranges topped with snow. But the doorbell interrupts my reverie. A few minutes later, a beautiful young woman enters the living room, carrying an exquisite leather case. She opens it and begins to set up her equipment.