Memory is a f*rkd up thing. Intrusive, relentless. A river that brings down all manner of debris at the most unlikely time; all these things just floating by, some truly ugly, others eager to be clutched at and kept …
He was selling gas from Dagoretti Corner. She lived along Riverside Drive. I don’t know how it happened but they met when he delivered gas to her apartment. Don’t know the details; maybe he pressed the doorbell and she …
Sometimes Joyce would dress up in a nice dress and go meet a man who would turn out to be a wet blanket and then she would have to go back home and sit on the bed with her …
It was a June lunch hour; bright and hot. The office of Rachuonyo and Rachuonyo Advocates was out to lunch, the laptops left abandoned on desks in an apocalyptic fashion, the fifth floor of Capitol Hill Towers finally still. …
