Tuesday, September 29, 2015


He paused, and when I still didn't respond, he said, "May I walk you the rest of the way?"

Monday, September 28, 2015

We sat out on the planting terrace to watch the moon last night. Clouds covered it most of the time. When it came out there was a misshapen smudge on its face, but its edge was sharp and bright. Down on the sidewalk, a woman stood still at the wall of the park. I wondered whether she was looking at it too, contemplating the wonder of this celestial event that won’t occur again until we’re all retired or worse. Then she turned around and I could see that she was on the phone. Oblivious. She’d absentmindedly strolled out of earshot of pedestrians to get a little privacy while she was breaking up with her boyfriend or talking to her senile mom or telling her kid to do his homework, mommy’s gonna be late. Never even noticing the blood moon up above.

Monday, September 21, 2015


was just as keyed-up as I was and kept barking

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

There was the picture of the automobile executive, not quite prone on the carpeted stage but looking like he was rolling on his side, or bouncing, his hands near his head for protection. Near him was a new blue car, one of his, undoubtedly. The headline said he fainted. I guess it was all too much.

I’ve developed some kind of allergy to my deodorant. Old Spice. The kind they say, if your grandpa didn’t wear it you wouldn’t exist. Ha ha, so funny. Who knows what satanic chemicals it contains. Aluminum, I guess. The natural ones don’t, so I assumed that was the culprit. All I know is my armpits became furiously itchy at the end of each day. When I stopped using it the itching went away in equal measure to the emergence of that salty, suffocating thing: the odor of my own body. So now I’m backing into some “natural” product, aluminum-free. Not because I want to. Because I have to.