“When I Recieving the Blessing I’ve Got Coming, I’m Going to Raise a Nice Cool Glass of Water and Toast the Living and the Dead Who Have Gone Before Me and My Head Will Throb Like an Old Wound Reopening.”

In the heat and sun of late June, I gazed out across coarse dry sand and tuned into and back out of conversation being had about people who’s lives have ended, who I have no connection to. I watched the bodies of the people on the beach in the hot sun, skin pink and irritated. The abundance and white of the oyster shells along the beach was stark and startling. Time passed slowly that Saturday as I daydreamed about my life, read idly the words of Tom Robbins, pondered what... Read the Rest →