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Orange

Amongst many feats the Yellow Mockingbird can somersault as well as sing in a discordant way. He is the clown of birds. He is the largest of the warblers and easily mistaken for something else until you listen to him or watch him show off his tricks. When I was in Panama going to the beach required traipsing a sandy path and cutting through someone’s property which included bulls and cows who were a little disc
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Sunday Story ~ Fate Dictates

  Something needed finishing. A loophole needed closing. It was eons in the making already. Long overdue. Sure there’s a master plan, a matrix with all the details sorted tidily, but just as surely there are variables, there are rips in the fabric, tears made from tears. Human suffering paid forward forcing undue pressure on the now. So it bursts, it busts, combusts. Act of God? Even for unbelievers? The conveyo
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Lucky Lucy

I gave him my address which was #7 Gay Street and despite no one believing this street exists it is not an invention, it connects West 4th Street with Christopher Street in a portion of Manhattan that is off the grid in so many directions. He could’ve waited for me to trot downstairs but instead for some reason he asked to be buzzed in and he huffed up the three flights of this old narrow townhouse and he knock
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A Good Guy

Yes, he saw her when he entered the bar but at thirty-nine he was stealth. He was with his crew. Mates from childhood. All American as they say. He wanted her, instantly. She was there for business and sat alone on a bench near the window, listening to the band and considering if she even liked their music. For one thing the front man had a creepy vibe. To her sensibilities the music was undanceable but it had someth
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King Rat

Another man dies, out of turn. How many times did he invite me to join him at the bar so he could tell me stories. And I always said I would and of course I never went. There was a pathos to him, like an immutable sadness, and it was too febrile for me. I justified this because I was sure I could guess the stories. I knew they would involve a lot of drinking and illegal mayhem mixed in with fairytale moments of sight
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Upstairs Downstairs

1984 and I was residing in London and reading obsessively in my spare time while working as a researcher. Workday mornings I took the train to Oxford where I had full access to Blenheim Palace, from the employees to Capability Brown’s gardens and the palace attics filled with trunks of documents and news clippings. I read Winston Churchill’s letters. The evening train ride to London I’d compile my notes.   At the end
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Wasted Youth

‘Because you’re older than me you think I know nothing?’ ‘Probably.’ ‘You ever see a movie called To Kill A Mockingbird?’ ‘It was a book. Did you know that?’ ‘No. I saw the movie. Cary Grant right?’ ‘Sure.’
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Bun Done

Wasn’t that long ago she was feted for her looks. Men fawned. She knew what she had. Especially now it was gone. Reflecting on a life well lived she chastised herself. She could have done better. Her demeanor was comfortably square with the rigid bun, nary a strand loose, roomy slacks covering long slim legs while revealing nothing. The top something floaty in a block of color; demure, elegant, feminine. Until you se
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Tennessee Williams & Truman Capote

In the words of David Wolkowsky: Truman Capote and Tennessee Williams often fell out. One time they weren’t getting along Truman was writing stories for Esquire. These stories would become Answered Prayers, the indiscretions that would bar him from most of polite society. One of the stories was about a doctor at the Plaza Hotel and he had a hustler walking his dog, Tommy, meanwhile the hotel room was full of do
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