A brief (and somewhat ambiguous) biography. One hundred words, more or less, about David Booker might include the following: though lost in the cosmos without a compass, he has nonetheless managed to find his way into middle age. As to what he will do now that he is there is still a matter of speculation. He often seeks guidance from his youthful daughter as he alternately approaches and retreats from the slow expansion of his waistline and the slow collapse of Western Civilization as he knows it. He hopes the two will reach a libration (or libation) point and he will creep into old age with some dignity and clothes intact.
Two writers are working in a room. The would-be mystery writer keeps scratching her head and staring at her screen as she decides what should happen next. The struggling science fiction writer repeatedly strikes his computer keyboard with his thumb. … Continue reading →
Diana had never liked banana bread. Hated it, actually. But there lay four loaves on the cooling wire. Thomas, her out-of-work husband, had made it. He had sent her a text saying he had a surprise for her. Well, she … Continue reading →