Michael Hammerle ~ The Horse Did Not Always Go Home

Jethrob Macromanni’s only real friend was a name­less horse. He would take the horse on long walks to the town lake and that was nor­mal. He would also ride the horse to and from the bar—because of that the horse had a rep­u­ta­tion around town.

Jethrob would tie the horse to the hitch­ing rail out front of the bar and drink all night; he, noto­ri­ous­ly, would get black­out drunk, so the peo­ple there –more

Alan Hines ~ Oak Cliff, Summer 1963

Nell hung up the phone and turned to her sis­ter. “I need you to dri­ve me down there.”

You still haven’t learned how to dri­ve?” Agnes had just come in from the storm. She had an umbrel­la, but she was still soak­ing wet.  “Where did they take him?”


Nizwa Knox-Jones ~ Or Best Offer

I did too much for her, but Pnina emailed to say the lamps would be ten dol­lars for the pair and she had to have them.  Small, steel, bed­side lamps with cat-print shades.  Pnina had asked me to exe­cute the deal, because she wasn’t very hap­py about dri­ving, even on cool, calm, sun­ny Sunday morn­ings.

Imagine it, Pnina,” I said, “Having a big fat ice cream sand­wich for break­fast, a –more