I fell in love with a man on the subway today.
He was sitting on the 1 train from South Ferry to 242nd street.
(116th, 110th, 103rd, 96th, 86th, 79th, 72nd, 66th, 59th, 50th, 42nd, 34th, 28th, 23rd, 14th)
He was leaning on the hard plastic seat and his long fingers danced on his knee. And he pushed up his round plastic glasses on his long nose and didn't look at me once.

I wished on a concrete sidewalk today. Read more »

     Poor sap.  You have no idea that your gleaming, souped-up, chrome-trimmed, glossy black pickup truck is about to cause a great deal of attention -- and you're going to lose what you thought was your most precious possession.  I think you're forgetting some things -- some ones. Read more »

     A shadow falls across the doorway; I glance toward it, turning slightly against Abel's arm pressed into my back, and watch the stranger enter.  He's just the sort of character Abel and I saw in the moving picture thirty minutes ago:  tall, dark, lean, and wholly enigmatic, from the charcoal fedora tipped forward, casting smoky light over his pallid face, down his dark, rumpled suit to his dusty black wingtips. Read more »