It was late when I got to the bar. No one bothered to look up from their drinks as I strolled through the arch. I scanned the room for my interview. The place was wretched. A blue collar dive filled mostly with longshoremen and pool hustlers. The floorboards were dark.
Continue reading this entry ...
Latest Comments
My Left Hand Hates America
Seeing God In The Sky
Seeing God In The Sky
The Mainstreaming of Anti-Semitism in America
How to Cry on Command-Because nothing says “I’m sorry” like believable weeping.
Undocumented, Underserved, and Under Fire
Breach of Contract (Nails V.2)