Fisher

Tuesday began like any other day, except for the dream and the wound. I woke up in my bed, though it took a minute to discern. Stripes of sun shone brightly through the blinds and my head ached. My bed. My blinds. My head. I was sure of all this. Damn sure. As sure as…

Two Cars

The first time I heard “Pink Cadillac” sung by Bruce Springsteen, I was in the back seat of a blue Chevy Camaro on the way to Phillips Crab House in Ocean City, Maryland. Brett Delacroix sped north on Coastal Highway with Marie riding shotgun and they acted like they were the only ones in the…