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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...

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...

Doing the Work: An Interview with John Yamrus

“No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money,” said the prolific 18th Century writer Samuel Johnson, according to his contemporaneous biographer, James...

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