This guy works in a store. He has a bulging gut but his heart was in the right place.
See What You Think About ThisXV — And off we set with the black bag
And off we set with the black bag in the trunk of the car. The drive to the restaurant is some two hundred miles of desert, mountain passes.
See What You Think About ThisXIV — I was wrong
I was wrong. It did change. How can you hear the cries of others and not listen?
See What You Think About ThisXII — I get flashbacks of war
I get flashbacks of war. But I wasn’t there
See What You Think About ThisXI — A man up along a road
Now see what you think about this: a man up along a road stood next to a tan colored car.
See What You Think About ThisXI — Letters
Letters. The writing on the brown envelope said: photocopies as requested.
See What You Think About ThisX — This isn’t my natural line of work
As I mentioned, this isn’t my natural line of work. I just fell into it.
See What You Think About ThisXII — Every now and then
Every now and then the old man would rock back on his heels. Every now and then.
See What You Think About ThisXI — You must listen intently to the sound in your ears
You must listen intently to the sound in your ears. It’s a carrier signal.
See What You Think About ThisX — March the seventeenth
March the seventeenth. Thinking about the body guard: got shot.
See What You Think About ThisIX — I spent two weeks in hospital
I spent two weeks in the hospital. I can remember getting there.
See What You Think About ThisVIII — There’s a spider
There’s a spider crawling on the counter.
See What You Think About ThisVII – I awake with a start
I awake with a start, and then slip back to this time.
See What You Think About ThisVI — I stab the cherry tomato
I stab the cherry tomato with my fork; trying hard to not let it shoot off the plate or squirt seeds at me.
See What You Think About ThisV — People get killed
People get killed. Are hollow. They come up to me like clear outlines with no insides, no complexity.
See What You Think About ThisIV — The dirt falls from the shovel
The dirt falls from the shovel all too slowly. I swear it doesn’t want to cover her body: it keeps slipping off to the edges.
See What You Think About ThisIV — People talking in the hotel bar
People talking in the hotel bar. A couple maybe mid-sixties.
See What You Think About ThisIV — I wait here every day
I wait here every day for somebody to come in.
See What You Think About ThisIII — And after the bar?
And after the bar? What happened after the bar, he asked.
See What You Think About ThisII — We stop at the next bench
We stop at the next bench, only a few yards away and she sits gently.
See What You Think About ThisII — On the edge of a main highway
On the edge of a main highway that runs through a small desert town.
See What You Think About ThisI — Nominal Starting Point
This acts as some kind of nominal starting point. Because it was.
See What You Think About ThisI — It’s a bit embarrassing
It’s a bit embarrassing. I’m worried about stretch marks on my back.
Maybe in the future she’d embody the pure-feminine-ideal or something, but right now Suraj had to explain just who Judy was and why she killed herself…
The Goddess as Active Listener (Parts 5–10)
When I remember Sue Castigliano, I think of almost naked dancers vaulting above the gold-tipped horns of Cretan bulls, to the sound of waves breaking in the distance. Wandering with the ghosts of an exploded island empire, I enter the doors of a library that I first thought was an octopus. When I think of her, I see wheat bound in sheaves…
The Goddess as Active Listener (Part 4)
“It is said that when the student is ready the teacher will appear. Luckily, the teacher may also choose to appear when the student is not at all ready. She drags him, if need be kicking and screaming, into a new, more direct, but also more paradoxical relationship with the self…”
The Goddess as Active Listener (Parts 1-3)
Are we meant to have certain experiences, or to connect with certain people rather than with others? The more romantic among us are used to thinking that there may be one true soul-mate for each person. It is less common to imagine that friends or teachers may also play their parts in this apparent drama of predestination.
Tales of a Venezuelan ExpatTales of a Venezuelan Expat: Dispatch #1 (Don’t cry for me, Argentina)
I’m lost in space. Lost. As it turns out the poets were right, you can’t go back home again. The Venezuela that raised me doesn’t exist anymore, that much everybody knows, but the situation got so unendurable that I’m finally aware of my limits. As it turns out I’m not an indestructible machine but a leaf floating in the wind, directionless and at the mercy of the gods.
The Glory of Groove
Meet Sidney (aka the Sacred Scribe)—a PhD candidate in Physics with a problem in the paradoxical human realm of love. What does a love triangle look like in the fourth dimension? Quantum indeterminacy rules, as Sidney and her friends explore a bold new cosmology uniting Science and Spirituality, and Sidney’s “wave function” must decide between the primal magnetism of Bruno, her friendship with Alyzia, and the life of her mind and creative soul.
Did I dream it all? I guess I did. But then I see the card on the table. I pick it up. It feels real. TAKE THE ELEVATOR, it says. Did I?