Long Bang
Five sweaters and a hat find me in the kitchen. Predictably, mother left cigarettes and no note, so I have one over orange juice.
And I make myself concerned suddenly with just where those same mothers have gone absent to, with the indoor weather something now intolerable.
Escaping Hell
I had always wondered what the descent into hell is like. For the record, it was nothing like I had imagined. The drop was unknowing. It was innocent and comforting. I felt understood. The initial plunge into Satan’s lair was my first conversation with Frank.
How do you want to be defined? By one action? By some opinion that could evolve? By a mistake, regrettable only with hindsight? Or by the sum of your parts? Okay, do that for other people. Start the trend.