D

d1

April.  

I hadn’t heard from Ann for weeks.  Was she blissfully involved with that Glen guy?  Was she miserable?  I didn’t know.  And I couldn’t ask Ms. DeAngela, because she’d stopped coming to the eye.

Continue reading

rule of threes

Detective_Comics_146a

Thursday night.  The eye

In a dark, back corner of the bar, Roger, pissed, reprimanded Jack.  Jack grinned, embarrassed, a schoolboy talking to the principal.  He hid a bottle of Corona behind his back and nodded sheepishly at everything Roger said.  

Mike and I watched from a table.

“What’s he saying?” I asked.

“He’s telling Jack he’s getting too sloppy on stage.  He’s gotta cut back.”

Continue reading

chemistry

Witch_Burning1a

School cafeteria.  

Bob ate lunch with Doug Borges and Charlie Martins.  At the entrance to the gym area, a list had been posted.  I read the list, and infuriated, tore it off the door, walked over to Bob’s table, and thrust it at him.  

“What the hell is this?” I said.

“What?” said Bob.

She’s a Witch?

“So?”

“You signed up to do a Monty Python sketch?”

“Yeah.  Is that okay, your highness?”

“No.  It’s not okay.”

Continue reading