“I show him, the little slip of the snip. Right there! I’m pointing but it’s confusing because he’s holding the hand mirror up to the back of my head and I’m pointing at it through the mirror I’m staring into in front us…”
Cecil and I are breakfasting, both with our usual bowls of artisanal porridge and coffees. He’s telling me about the misadventures of his latest haircut. Continue reading
“Do you remember when I directed Arturo Ui with the kids?” Cecil asks me.
I didn’t. Not offhand. Cecil had been a secondary school English and drama teacher, exiting the profession, he claimed, before they replaced all books with instruction manuals. That was back a few years now. Retirement suited Cecil who’d definitely mellowed, became less ornery and cantankerous. Continue reading
[Excerpts from session notes of Dr. Barnaby Ebsen.]
“It’s the principle of thing.”
“What’s the principle?”
“What’s the—”
“Name it. This principle of the thing. A name gives it shape. Otherwise, it’s just this vague, amorphous badge of self-righteousness.”
“Wow.”
“Otherwise, you’re just this guy who let the air out of the car tires of some poor soul with an accessible parking permit.” Continue reading