Tin Fork

“What time is it?” “Six-thirty in the am.” “Where are we?” “Don’t even look, pappy. We’re in the Philippines. Can’t you smell the food?” I can. Vinegar, fish, BBQ. Ria, my beloved stepkid who’s no ...

The angel Gabriel blasts his golden trumpet high above Fifth Avenue. It glints in the evening sun from the dome of The Abbey, the massive onetime church across the road. “I am worth it,” I ...

Where is everybody? This was last Tuesday, in Oceanside. I was looking for food. Don’t look for food on Tuesday afternoons. So many places are closed. Specially last Tuesday, the day the whole nation fell ...

“So long, Huey.” It’s a biker muttering this. He ain’t old enough to have picked up that Vietnam moniker for the sun, but he says it anyway. Because yes, that last moment’s coming. People have ...

“It was beauty that killed the beast,” reads the sentence etched into the blond bar counter. “If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.” On and on. Sayings, thoughts, bon mots, the ...