Deirdre stares around her at shelf after shelf of cell phones, earpieces, cell phone covers, holsters, and some strange metallic screen things she cannot explain. She rarely comes into town anymore and it took her twenty minutes to find the mall and fifteen more to find a parking space. She is still wearing her apron and only now notices it. She tears it off and unsuccessfully tries to cram it into her coat pocket on top of her car keys. She stuffs it under the display of luminous cell phone cases . . .
Tag: The Brothers’ Lot
When the Beadle came to my cubicle I was not surprised. I had been almost three minutes late and I knew what the Beadle’s job was. Even if you did not know what his job was, the shiny black suit, the purple cloak, and the watch chain going into the top pocket of his jacket would tell you that he was the bringer of no good news . . .
Featured: Music/Popular Culture/Art
- Artificial Light
- Simon’s Cat in Kitten Chaos
- We Owe You Nothing, Punk Planet: The Collected Interviews Expanded Edition
- Bronx Biannual: The Literary Journal of Urbane Urban Literature
- Copycat: And a Litter of Other Cats
- Will Work for Drugs
- I Love You Too
- Spoke: Images and Stories from the 1980s Washington, DC Punk Scene
- The Worst Breakfast
- The Half That’s Never Been Told: The Real-Life Reggae Adventures of Doctor Dread
- A Secret History of Coffee, Coca & Cola
- Jerusalem Calling