Category: stories from a bar with no doorknobs
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christmas in a laboratory.
Two sub-levels down, the little robot quietly raised his head. He counted the minutes. Kept an eye on the door. On the keypad, its digits a calculus red. Once convinced, he stretched his set of mismatched wheels and went for a walk. As always, he reached his destination within seconds. Ends of his rubber-lined, caterpillar…
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M0 J0
He wore his sport coat like a cape. Face all the worse for gravity’s ongoing story. Thin red lips stenciled across pancake batter, triplicate chins that spilled over a black bolo tie. Silver shock of greasy hair combed back towards sloping shoulders. Twin thistles arched over eyes with no apparent iris. MoJo would hobble into…
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christmas in a laboratory.
Two sub-levels down, the little robot quietly raised his head. He counted the minutes. Kept an eye on the door. On the keypad, its digits a calculus red. Once convinced, he stretched his set of mismatched wheels and went for a walk. As always, he reached his destination within seconds. Ends of his rubber-lined, caterpillar…
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M0 J0
He wore his sport coat like a cape. Face all the worse for gravity’s ongoing story. Thin red lips stenciled across pancake batter, triplicate chins that spilled over a black bolo tie. Silver shock of greasy hair combed back towards sloping shoulders. Twin thistles arched over eyes with no apparent iris. MoJo would hobble into…
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suicide at 35.
At the time, I couldn’t have told you how many years I had left to live. Spring of 2004 in the city of New York. The trees were on their yearly walkabout. Some going so far as to erupt in resplendent blemishes. Cherry petals rippled along Brooklyn streets and the walkways of Washington Square Park.…
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christmas in a laboratory.
Two sub-levels down, the little robot quietly raised his head. He counted the minutes. Kept an eye on the door. On the keypad, its digits a calculus red. Once convinced, he stretched his set of mismatched wheels and went for a walk. As always, he reached his destination within seconds. Ends of his rubber-lined, caterpillar…
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M0 J0
He wore his sport coat like a cape. Face all the worse for gravity’s ongoing story. Thin red lips stenciled across pancake batter, triplicate chins that spilled over a black bolo tie. Silver shock of greasy hair combed back towards sloping shoulders. Twin thistles arched over eyes with no apparent iris. MoJo would hobble into…
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christmas in a laboratory.
Two sub-levels down, the little robot quietly raised his head. He counted the minutes. Kept an eye on the door. On the keypad, its digits a calculus red. Once convinced, he stretched his set of mismatched wheels and went for a walk. As always, he reached his destination within seconds. Ends of his rubber-lined, caterpillar…
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corrective. elective. ruby.
Before she left me for the Champs-Élysées, Helena had clocked in a good six months at an upper-east side dive colloquially known as Red Rum. Long after it was over between us, I’d find myself stopping by. The food was bad, the beer rank. On more than one occasion, some poor sod got his face…
notes from a never-was. 