A Thousand Sad Pieces
Golden light created a soft waterfall through the dense canopy of trees in the mountain village, filtering through the early morning mist rising from the valley below, falling sporadically on the roof of his adobe home. It crawled gently down the walls looking for the window it knew everyday at this hour. It let itself in, Read More »
LOS ANGELES, CA – “I was a sniper,” he said.
“But you’re out now?”
“Yeah. I did six years but I’ll probably re-enlist.” “Why?” I asked. “He’s got kids,” Galley-man hollered from his post.
I was charging my lap-top down in the galley and at the next stop in Chico, Sniper-man got off to smoke and Galley-man told me he’d cut off Sniper-man’s booze at 3am after he and another Iraq Vet drank most of Amtrak’s mini-bar. Read More »
It was 13 years ago. I am 9 years old. It is a sweltering summer. The ocean breeze arrives right before sundown. The neighborhood children and I have gathered to play Flying Colors. We are choosing teams. A younger, filthy boy (resembling Pig Pen) walks up to me.
“ Girls can’t do anything!” Hunter says to me in front of everyone. Read More »
I was 21, living in Houston, and appearing in a play called Fire, when Robert Altman came to town to film BREWSTER MCLEOD, a now mostly-forgotten movie that was now mostly-forgotten actor Shelley Duval’s debut. Rumor had it Mr. Altman had plucked her from behind the cosmetics counter at Foley¹s department Read More »
