Tuesday night and here we are, tilting at windmills again, grateful for their tolerance, or more likely, benevolent indifference. How we adore them all! How we cherish their wry splendor and casual wit, their pixie noses and cropped cuts, their unabashed declarations...
Silence is the color in a blind man’s eyes Leonard wondered if it was some kind of contest, if it smacked of more than what it seemed. He had heard the poem a hundred times, Charnley always walking around with the book in his shirt pocket or back pocket suddenly...
“Easy now, Keith. You’re almost there.” Rollins, unable to make out the corner he was driving around, cranked the licorice black steering wheel very slowly. He might as well have a bandage over his eyes, he thought, barely touching the accelerator...
Here they come around the corner of the block, the man and his dogs. He wears soft buckskin moccasins so the sound of his feet treading the sidewalk imitates that of his two companions. Padt padt padt. The only difference is the rhythm of their strides. The dogs...
When I opened the wooden, eight-panel door to Fatty’s bar, a muscular man in a yellow tank top banked the seven ball into the lower right corner pocket and scratched, the skinny bartender poured Budweiser into a pint glass, and the laughter–the animation I heard...
I wake up wondering, how many people are here? It didn’t used to be so crowded. I know I’m not crazy, but my brain keeps putting slides of various people in front of my eyes whenever I look at a mirror. It’s like my house is haunted. Every piece of silvered glass...
