Photo: agsaz / Shutterstock.com After my visit to the Royal Alcazar, I stopped at a café and sat outside, relishing the almost-warmth in that last day of December, sipping the thick hot chocolate and dipping fat fingers of churros into it, telling myself it was my...
It’s ten minutes to 7 and mordant sunlight is leaking through the gaps in the broken curtains. I can feel the gold light on my face and understand the meaning of the term ‘sun-drenched.’ I keep my eyes closed, letting my eyelids burn under the weight of the fulgent...
We are in Needle Park and I am cold. I’m always cold, even in October. Maybe this has to do with the way the sun rises over my house, sort of in a sloppy diagonal. The cat and I sit in the backyard to thaw out in the early afternoon. Blonde cockroaches live in...
The same guy who gave Ron Swanson a snifter at Lagavulin was the same guy who taught me how to pull whiskey from a barrel, a skill I’ve never used since. In 2016, he was smaller than on TV, only to my shoulder, and I wondered how we shrank over time and in real life,...
Photo by Segunfodeke/ CC BY-SA 3.0 while on a morning walk in Ummuneochi, a western boy called pointing a finger to the sky and says; “Eagle. This bird’s name is eagle.” I look, but the part of the sky is empty.It is gone, he said. That bird is an eagle, that is the...
“The Mutton Lane Inn entrance” by cotitoo is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0 I’m just after kissing you goodbye on Patrick Street and maybe it’s the lingering press of your lips on mine, or the pint rejuvenating the leftover buzz of last night, or the Amber...
