Her Beautiful Days
“Pick up the book, you idiot, pick it up and throw it through the window.”
Slane
What was his vision?
Ghosts and Trains and Things She Left Behind
“Are you afraid of ghosts?” he asked me.
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” I said.
Drummer
I did not belong in the bare essential apartment surrounded by all the up and comings. I didn’t belong in a bar when the nights in the hot and humid town pulsed with loneliness. I didn’t belong on the street in the middle of the night walking with a man that nearly drove me mad with sexual desire.
That Tender Spot
I got up and followed as best I could but even in my discomfort I confessed a strange gratitude that she had not let go of my throbbing arm. We walked for forever but in reality we walked just around the block. She steered me past parked cars and a darkened street and down some stairs.