On a humid summer afternoon in Kawasaki, my mother sailed into the house, leaving her heeled sandals in the doorway before stepping up onto the dark and polished wooden floor of the kitchen.
Ramblings while on a slow suburban death.
Month: September 2014
This was not a pizza dream.
A serial killer had gotten around to killing some friends, a horrible thing when I ran across San Francisco’s Polk Street looking for a futon shop.
This is a sweltering desert town where the temperature is on low broil setting.