The ceiling was tin. The booths were painted with desert scenes. The tabletops were Mexican tile. Mary Lou Buckman and I sat in the first booth, and I, mindful of Wild Bill Hickok, sat facing the door. We were reading the menus. Among the choices were a chicken breast sandwich on sourdough bread ...
It was hard moving underfoot, and the few trucks and busses churned and skidded in the unswept streets. The first stars had come out in the sky, and the wind had fallen to a whisper. Thin columns of wood smoke hung suspended like exclamation points atop chimney pots on a thousand glistening roofs...
Jenn had a glass of red wine. Jesse was drinking a Coke.“When we’re together,” Jesse said, “what do you feel coming from me.”“I feel strong vibes that I should undress and lie down,” Jenn said.“Really?”Jenn was about to bite the point off a pizza slice. She stopped and looked at him with the pizz...