4:37
a.m.
In the morning.
I am dooming.
As the kids say.
Or so I’ve heard that’s what the kids say.
I am on old man. By any standard of measure. My sources on such matters could well be unreliable. Continue reading
Dooming
Reply
Grimy Gulch
He told us what we had to do and what sort of men we had to reach. He had quit the Twentieth Century… He stepped to the window and pointed at the skyscrapers of the city. He said that we had to extinguish the lights of the world, and when we would see the lights of New York go out, we would know that our job was done.
* * *
Let’s talk about the rich.
Continue reading
Bubble-ing Over
“So Patty and I are on the outs,” Cecil informs me over breakfast. Mine the usual yogurt, fruit, grains, nuts and pulses. I think there are some pulse qualifiers in the mix in my bowl. Cecil’s ventured for some French toast today. Comfort food, he tells our waitress, Roxanne. “To cure the broken hearted,” he mocks. Himself, not Roxanne, that is.
Continue reading