We have just been released from an immigration hold at Memphis Airport.
The buttons flew to the ground in all possible directions. Some rolling, some twirling a little, and then falling flat. My eyes follow the one…
He met me at the airport. At first, I couldn’t find him. He was firing off text messages in rapid succession.
Driver series, Part I
I grew up in Prague, in the seventies and eighties. Life sometimes felt like trudging through molasses.
I’m sitting outside at a white metal table with an abstract design. It’s Jess and Emily’s table and chair. I’m…