From the category archives:

The Press Club

Blake Replies

December 16, 2004

Read yesterday’s to follow today’s… FROM BLAKE: Attn. Daedalus (if that indeed is your real name) – Poor sir, you’re a fool. This search for yourself in the eyes of women is dull and ordinary. Moreover, the identity motif in your slipshod reportage is not only trite but telling. No wonder you haven’t made any [...]

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Her Many Lovers

December 15, 2004

Blake, man – Forgive the lapse, chap. Been waylaid conducting important research: indeed, the search for a unified field theory of women continues. At least ex post facto. And no thanks to the Lumaville Daily Echo, by the way. It’s with some relish that I admit to having spent a week on the clock, wine-soaked [...]

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Scene One

November 9, 2004

FADE IN: EXT. DESERT – DAY A wind-swept desert plain. Dervishes of dust dance over the cracked earth and lead to an army-issue tent, which is tiny on the horizon. Close on the tent — a hand-painted sign reads “Lumaville Daily Echo: K—istan Bureau.” Below it, seated at a makeshift desk is a weatherbeaten young [...]

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Prelude to Drinks at Dawn

October 28, 2004

It was late when we started drinking. And hours since our host had abandoned us in his kitchen with a blithe “Help yourselves” before trundling out to the still waters of the River Lumaville and the boathouse astride its banks. The carelessness of the nouveau riche, I thought. His guests comprised the press club after [...]

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