hic vigilans somniat
...shocked at how seedy the old neighborhood looks, I feel a pang of survivor’s guilt over my own relatively comfortable life now. Through the open door of the apartment, I can see that our old neighbors are sitting down to dinner. I’m stunned for a moment to find that the little boy my son used to play with is now a… Continue reading an uncomfortable visit
...passing through one of the seedier parts of town, I stop off to visit with an old friend from college. I’m surprised to find him here, in such strained circumstances. We sit out on his little patch of front yard and chat for a bit, but it quickly grows tiresome. He’s consumed by self-involved bitterness about the past and where… Continue reading cages
...gathered around the table, we trade anecdotes and witty replies . . . just a bunch of guys hanging out, who also happen to be famous — all except me, of course. I can’t believe I’m here, can’t believe that everyone just assumes I belong... ...he’s lying in the shore, dozing in the early evening breeze. The surface of the… Continue reading a jar of mud and other fragments