A guy comes to my gate in the village. He’s young, wearing a shirt with torn-off sleeves like a scrapper in a low-budget flick. We speak through the gate. He says, “I once did some work for you.” I …

The other day I was having a conversation about death with Lady. I’d read an article about a guy who was talking about cremation and she asked me, “Would you consider being cremated?” Her voice echoed loudly because everybody …

I wrote a story but the subject requested that it be shared with his lawyer first because the last time I wrote about him and his marriage it created such a shitstorm it ended in court. His lawyer hasn’t …

I haven’t written a decent sentence in five days. I’m in a bit of a creative slump, something that happens once in a while. It’s like walking through dead air, a place with no gravity. A place with no …