Activity

“Where’s your God now?” pitches Marjorie, selling past the close. “Slammy’s. We never claimed we’re divine. Except, of course, for our hot apple pies. Mmm-mmm. Slammy’s.”

“Hypno Joe’s coffee is delicious with hot apple pie,” Hypno Joe’s voice injects into my hypnotic trance.

I try to ignore h…

there is something comforting about being swathed in all that grand Goodman gabardine

It is exceedingly dark though. I have the flashlight on my new iPhone, but it produces an odd, diffuse, almost useless light. When I was a young man, flashlights did their jobs and illuminated the dark, not just small-print menus in dimly lit restaurants. It was a different and heady time. I point …

I fall into an open personhole.

As I am climbing out, a car parks on top of the hole. I call up to the driver, explain my predicament. He hears me but refuses to give up the spot, even briefly. He’d been driving around for a half an hour looking for a place to park, he yells down to me. I do und…

AND SO IT goes. He lies and lies and lies about the film for well over an hour. Clearly, he has not seen it. He has made up a film that is by definition antithetical to Ingo’s concept, antithetical to Ingo’s artistic mission. I have been thrust into a waking nightmare, but I hold my tongue until th…