At the fag-end of the Nineties, I resolved to step off one treadmill and onto another. I had decided to enter an entirely new trade, of which I knew precisely nothing. I had been to such establishments, of course, though only in the capacity of a customer. I had stood on the public side ofContinue reading “Establishment Support”
Tag Archives: shortstories
Eleven
Every time I see you, you just drift into the horizon. You come as unexpectedly as always. Every time, it surprises me how worn and ravaged you have become. You are beautiful in a way that Nastassja Kinski was in my youth. Shy, mysterious and dark. But no one can say you are sexy, whereContinue reading “Eleven”
