This morning in the pouring rain I sat, for two hours in a rickety wooden booth that shook with the slightest breeze. My view was limited to a road, a series of train tracks, in the distance a Starbucks, and every once in a while, a train would pass, making big important train noises
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but hearing about people experiencing these things, even second or third hand, is a reminder that we actually are living this life right here and right now.
It helps me shed that feeling that sometimes creeps up - that I'm just waiting for something to happen.
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"dave called."
"dave who?"
"one-legged-dave."
"oh."
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And I think one-nut-willie was a justified nickname. Casey was his cousin. She told me.
And Christine really did have a glass eye, didn't she?
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