Tag Archives: uncomfortable
Third Thursday
He came to dinner every third Thursday. Tonight he’d brought a lovely white wine to go with the fish dish she’d emailed about on the e-vite. He sat in the car and watched her window. She was home, had been … Continue reading
Just a Thought
Tengo pictured it. A gaggle of sunburned men, uncomfortable in their dark suits, puffing away, mourning a man who had died of lung cancer. —Haruki Murakami/1Q84
Picking a Font
I got hit on the other day at the Denver Art Museum. I don’t really know what to do with this information other than to say it out loud and to be a little weirded out by it. I was … Continue reading
What Am I Doing Here?
I find myself at a birthday party. Not a big deal, but it is at the end of a weekend full of thinking, and that is never a good thing. All I can do lately is look at people and … Continue reading