What Else Is There To

Look How Black The Sky Is, The Writer Said. I Made It That Way.

So…” Kimball Looks At His Book Helplessly. “there’s Nothing You Can Tell Me About Paul Owen?” “well.” I Sigh. “he Led What I Suppose Was An Orderly Life, I Guess. “ Really Stumped, I Offer, “he...ate A Balanced Diet.

There’s No Use In Denying It: This Has Been A Bad Week. I’ve Started Drinking My Own Urine.

I Think In Life, There Are Certain Choices You Make That Are Timeless And Universal, And Don't Necessarily Have Anything To Do With The Particulars Of A Certain Decade.

Hello, Halberstam," Owen Says, Walking By. Hello, Owen," I Say, Admiring The Way He's Styled And Slicked Back His Hair, With A Part So Even And Sharp It... Devastates Me And I Make A Mental Note To Ask Him Where He Purchases His Hair-care Products, Which Kind Of Mousse He Uses, My Final Guesses After Mulling Over The Possibilities Being Ten-x.