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Fiction

Famously Reclusive

When I think back on the whole story, I notice with some shock that I can’t clearly visualize my boss’s eyes. She had long black hair—this I can see clearly—brittle hair that whisped about her face as though a photographer had caught her freeze-frame in the midst of a storm.

Stories

Someone approached me on the street. It was broad daylight, appalling. Questions were put to me as if I might know something.

from CASTLE IN THE AIR

The last word is written, the manuscript finished. I’d wanted to make it seem as if everything had happened, not to me, but to someone else, for example a close friend whose misfortunes I’d have witnessed and whose story I’d have been in a good position to relate.

Tragic Strip

The continuation that made a Tijuana bible out of the insult man that made a man out of "Mac."

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The Brooklyn Rail

OCT 2010

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