Happiness. It's relative.
At six o’clock on Halloween, I’d decide what I was going to be that year. The choice would always come down to being a bum or a hobo, the difference being that a hobo costume would include a stick with a bundle tied on… Continue Reading “We Are Who We Pretend to Be”
I heard the rumors. The guy at the grocery told me about a homeless guy sneaking into sheds and garages at night, disappearing in the morning and leaving nothing except old paint cans or winter sleds slightly rearranged. “They say you can’t really tell… Continue Reading “Firefly”
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