* Martin Kettle, laughing loudly, like an empty wallet, flushed, but not flush, and head of table, accepting a few Kronenbourg, raises his special birthday tankard, says thank you, all, and tells his Brass In Pocket story. We'd all heard it before, but it flowed from him, sounding a lot like lore to me. I … Continue reading Martin Kettle’s Brass In Pocket.
He had made only cursory plans to steal the largest ruby in the world - and, perhaps inevitably, he was caught before he was even deemed red-handed. He served at her pleasure and was released shy of his fifty-third. He then tried again. On his return to the top floor of the high tower where … Continue reading The Glam Coral.
A rose flowered from the desert and, wearing nothing but a felt lavender bolero and a baize-green bikini, weaved her way across the sand toward the quiet blacktop. Shadows, long and low, leaned into the west; pointing to the distant sierras reminiscent of jaw bones in the early morning sun. She appeared dizzy and confused; … Continue reading Distant Sierras.
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