If I Wasn't Hard, I

I Don’t Mind If You Don’t Like My Manners. They’re Pretty Bad. I Grieve Over Them During The Long Winter Evenings.

The Plants Filled The Place, A Forest Of Them, With Nasty Meaty Leaves And Stalks Like The Newly Washed Fingers Of Dead Men.

California, The Department-store State. The Most Of Everything And The Best Of Nothing.

I Like Bars Just After They Open In The Evening. When The Air Inside Is Still Cool And Clean And Everything Is Shiny. The First Quiet Drink Of The Evening In A Quiet Bar -- That's Wonderful.

A Good Story Cannot Be Devised; It Has To Be Distilled.