It was a back alley somewhere near the bus station. I feel that’s how a story should start when it takes place in Los Angeles. Byron and I were cold and sober, we had just taken an overnight bus from Nevada and where dying for a bite to eat. And this back alley smelled like … Continue reading Ten Years Ago: Part One
Black and White: part 7
The ward is on the other side of the main O.R.B. station, but it takes me little time to get to the commander’s office. My slippers slide to a halt in front of his door; I take a minute to compose myself. The nameplate on the door wriggles around impatiently, letting me know the Pridon … Continue reading Black and White: part 7
Thought of a Thinker 