I’ve been traveling. From the east… To the high plains… To the south west… Following a road that filled my heart. When I opened my eyes this morning I was in my own bed, under the red tile rooftop of a place I’m very familiar with. And as I often…
Category: Fiction
…In retrospect hijacking a telephone code was the least of Billie’s sins that summer, and since she’d stopped attending confession about the same time she stopped taking piano lessons, she never atoned, achieving a state of grace was the furthest thing from her mind. What she wanted was out. Out…
Where muse and memory meet is often over a keyboard. I’m calling that a ghostly visitation. I have been in Boston a couple of months now, and I’m going to talk about riding a synaptic wave that apparently has been building in my psyche for a long, long, time. I…
“What a piece of work is a man!” Click here for John Gielgud reading Hamlet. Mr. Gielgud’s “Hamlet” Originally published on 16 October 1944 LONDON, SATURDAY. The tremendous merit of Mr. John Gielgud’s long-awaited “Hamlet” (produced last night at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket) is its fidelity. Neither the production nor…