Sleeping on Otis’ Floor

“Goodnight, asshole,” John says. I see the meaty ghost of his shadow collapse below street-lit window blinds. I hear him thud. He groans like...

Find Me Alive at Sunrise

I left while the sun was setting and came back before the dark anchored in for the night, before the neighbourhood came out to devour...

The Fog

I had an experience once, riding in a Buick and winding up in San Francisco. It was 1962 and I hardly recall what we...

Grab Bag