Archive for August, 2004


Sunday, August 8th, 2004

I frighten myself sometimes. Not like in the old days when I’d sometimes stuff a whole $20 bag of crack into the stem and hit it, hard, hoping to blow out my heart—and failing, left only with a big goofy grin and an inability to grasp small objects. No, not frightening like that. Not like […]

The time traveler’s wife

Saturday, August 7th, 2004

I don’t always have first crack at a new book. A day or two before new books are put out, they appear on a cart in the work room behind the circ desk so the staff can look them over. They’re already wrapped, labelled, stickered, stamped and bar-coded, so they’re no longer virginal, but still, […]


Wednesday, August 4th, 2004

I don’t know why it’s taken them so long, or why their sudden appearance surprises me. Mosquitoes have discovered there’s a large tasty mammal living in my apartment and have begun dropping by for a post-coital snack. Why can’t they just have a cigarette like everybody else? When I first moved-in, I was distressed that […]