#851: For the Chuckles

November 17th, 2017 § permalink

Occasionally the chattering teens let the sound of football break through.

The football was on TV, the teens were on plastic chairs pushed beneath the two-tops Tetrised into the restaurant. The usual corner pizza place contrivances were there — heat-lamp rack for the slices, illustrations of fat Italians in chef hats on 3/4 of the walls.

People shoved in and people shoved out, slices in hands. Only the teens, the football and a middle-aged man working a crossword puzzle from a barstool along the storefront window were permanent fixtures.

Eventually the man got up and went back to the kitchen. Eventually one of the teen couples left, saying goodbye to the other one on the way out. All that was left was one teen couple, an anxious-looking blonde woman standing behind the register and hundreds of photos of Hegewisch Chuckles. » Read the rest of this entry «

#849: Big Marsh

November 13th, 2017 § permalink

There are only a few signs you’re still in a city. A spider’s web of telephone lines off in the distance. A tanker truck speeding down an access road to one of the lingering industrial sites that survived the 20th century. A name on the signs that say not to fish, get off the trail, let your dogs bother the birds or go into the fenced area.

You’re in nature. You’re in Chicago. » Read the rest of this entry «

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