What Samuel loves most about going to his Aunt Virginia and Uncle Joseph’s house is the fish tank, though it usually isn’t kept very well. Last time the glass was covered in a thin layer of grimy algae, and the… Continue Reading
The first time I cussed around grown-ups was at my Uncle’s house in Virginia on Thanksgiving and they all needed to hear it. Here’s what Thanksgiving was all about back then: piling into the cramped sedan for an eleven-hour drive… Continue Reading
So, I was talking with several of my artworld clients and acquaintances when one of them, Moll E, a concept artiste and massage therapist, mentioned a frame she had in mind for a painting. The frame would be a life-size… Continue Reading
He was a legend spoken of in hushed tones in dark, sweaty halls. A champion boxer, a Grand Prix winner, an expert marksman and an eater of ghosts. But he was known only by his moniker in the 3-character high… Continue Reading
I’m meticulous about the details — the deep, baritone groove of your voice; the lean line of your hip; your abiding love of bad puns; the way you dip your head instead of saying good-bye. These are my favourites. These… Continue Reading
I watched Jerry in silent awe, amazed by the quickness of his fingers across the keys. Back straight, elbows relaxed at his sides, he made what he did look effortless. He was the master, though — there was no denying… Continue Reading
I waited for her outside the coffee shop. You know that one on Broadway and 5th? It has that crooked sign with the flickering lights that usually spell “Coff Shop”. She always got a kick out of that. She said… Continue Reading
A sudden blanket of sunlight nearly dragged the exhausted companions to their knees. The grips of the Endless Forest now out of reach behind them, the three proceeded west. A steady, refreshing breeze kept their spirits up, though they could… Continue Reading
On our first day back from Summer Break, my best friend Jimmy fell out of his chair clutching his knee, screaming. I laughed, believing this to be an out-of-place practical joke I was usually in on. Jimmy kept saying his… Continue Reading
Monty repaired typewriters. He knew all there was to know about repairing typewriters. And about the typewriters themselves. The back room in his north London semi was a private typewriter museum full of Underwoods, Olivettis, and Remingtons. He showed me… Continue Reading