Enter, the Clowns_Saddle Up_A Dreaming of Beyond_Patron of the Arts
Catalog Guide:
Enter, the Clowns
"That's the thing about this city," Carson whispered, "it is only partially visible." Dane leaned closer, because that could not be what his best friend had said to him. "Huh?" he replied, definitely not whispering. An older gentleman, who had been half-heartedly reading his newspaper, glanced over at them as the bus wheeled aroundwww.onedoor.cc the corner of 9th and Vine, pulling up with a rough stop in front of the Public Library. Carson straightened, pressed his lips together to indicate silence, and nodded his buddy off the bus. "What did you say?" Dane asked again, as they smacked down onto the sidewal...
Saddle Up
Jesse James, Cole Younger, George Armstrong Custer, had brothers, friends, cohorts to play off of. Even Pinocchio had a Jiminy Cricket, I got Bob. Bob is one of those characters, who not only believes there is nothing he can’t or won’t do. It is because he is the best at everything he does, according to The Book of Bob. Thinking, even knowing sometimes, doesn’t make a wrong a right, or stupid, smart. Bob ain’t figured that out yet. Bob is a used car salesman; he is the patented descriptive nature of a used car salesman. Bob, if one thing, is a good liar. Not because of the lies he tells, be...
A Dreaming of Beyond
A Dreaming of BeyondI am not sure when it started for me, or perhaps it was just I became more aware of the phenomenon. I had begun to travel in my nightly dreams. My father, a phycologist, told me, “Emma, you have always possessed an extremely fertile imagination, and you recently suffered a couple of quite traumatic experiences.”I always hated when dear old papa attempted to psychoanalyze me as if a mere male could ever fully understand the totality of femaleness. I was aged sixteen and just starting to come to terms with how intensely sexual I was beginning to feel in myself, especially how...
Patron of the Arts
GinaI'm delighted by the day-shift busboy from RanDom, my go-to sober-day cafe. Even his zits are glorious. Every Thursday, when I’m luxuriating with my black coffee, chocolate croissant, and a copy of the New York Times crossword puzzle, my anticipation builds to a level of delicate discomfort—until the dovetails of my busboy’s jacket wing their way into my peripheral. That released breath of relief is something to savor each time.RanDom’s manager makes the waitstaff wear formalwear (the cheapest available, I might add) like they’re extras on the set of Clue, or dressing up for a murder myste...