Don’t You Leave Me Here
The guitar hero mellowed into an elder statesman, gray and goateed, tattoos faded, dressed in jeans and black clogs
Lost in the Stax
There was a stop work order on the building, so I went under the fence. I’d never been in the building. I couldn’t see a thing. I went back to my VW Bug, pulled up the back seat, and pulled out a book of matches—later on, I learned that the stop order was because of a gas leak. But there I was, lighting matches. I opened a door to a closet, looked down, and there were two boxes of tapes.
Three Record Stores
We'd driven all that way without a map, ignorant and defenseless. Now the sublime had ambushed us and pummeled our hearts.
Light Years from Home
Caring for her required me to perform a series of small tasks over and over again, tasks with the peculiar quality of seeming at once urgent and tedious.
When We Are a Wilderness
The news unhinged me—that is, it managed to unscrew every working part inside me.
