You lose your friends somewhere in the first hallway. At the entrance, your eyes still dazed from sunlight, you were offered a choice between the Long Way Round and the Shortcut, and your friends asked for the Long Way Round, and you went with them because you were...
Looking up Sheldon Creek. Effectuated by making it this far without submerging my boots once in river water—deft side-skirting, hanging on of root as glacial braids of the Toklat guzzled Away and North, to Yukon or further mysteries, ten feet below where I clung to...
Photo by Mate Karoly / Shutterstock.com Nearly everyone else in the Piazza Caprerer was milling about or gazing at the 18th century Basilica di Santa Margherita, whose walls glowed the palest lemon in the morning sun. One man was not, he came from one corner of the...
Photo by George Sheldon / Shutterstock.com Here you are in a room in the Hotel Bologna on the periphery of a fantastic city. He has gone. Today, about his business – the conference, the lectures, the colleagues. The morning is yours. Cool shirt with sleeves to hide...
Images by Elliot Davis We took a road trip across Egg Nation (one nation, under CHICKEN). Though it looks similar, Egg Nation is not like AMERICA, where people are equal and free. In Egg Nation, no egg is equal, and eggs only think they’re free. I am a fried egg like...
Photo by George Sheldon / Shutterstock.com Mothers should smell of homemade chicken noodle soup or Chanel No 5 or windowsill pies. I remember you in the wet dog scent of inexpensive saddle shoe leather or plasticy, slick jelly shoes or porridge served in the front...
