#283: The Murderess Down the Block, 1 of 2
February 17th, 2014 § permalink
#282: The Biggest Liar in Chicago
February 14th, 2014 § permalink
I leaned back on the love seat, hands behind my head, stretching a bit and closing my eyes to focus on the Elvis playing softly overhead. By the second-floor bar, under whiskey barrel decorations, hurling clubs and other Irishana, a waitress standing by a plate of cheese fiddled with her phone as I prepared to tell two people that I met Batman. » Read the rest of this entry «
#281: Trainmen vs. Conductors
February 12th, 2014 § permalink
The man in the zip-up cardigan, branded Metra blazer and hat that said TRAINMAN on the front pursed his lips and made a juggling/weighing-of-options motion with his hands.
“It’s the same thing. The conductor is like in charge,” he said, choosing each word with care. “But it’s the same thing.” » Read the rest of this entry «
#280: The Beauty
February 10th, 2014 § permalink
I kept looking on Saturday. » Read the rest of this entry «
#279: The Bunny
February 7th, 2014 § permalink
“Bunny. Bunny,” the Metra conductor said in the controlled shout usually reserved for calls for tickets. “It’s a bunny.”
He was young and slim, cracked a smile as the commuters filed out of the train. » Read the rest of this entry «
#278: Your Options Include
February 5th, 2014 § permalink
I tore down your signs. And I’m going to keep doing that. » Read the rest of this entry «
#277: Drag Race
February 3rd, 2014 § permalink
The first bus blared its horns at the second.
It wasn’t just the coy beep beep that signals one bus passing the other. It was angrier, lower, louder somehow. A lean-in blaaat honked three times rather than the “passing you” two. » Read the rest of this entry «
#276: Patchy
January 31st, 2014 § permalink
After high school, part of my job at the forest preserve district was cleaning up the outhouses.
I would go in with rubber gloves, heavy-duty blue paper towels, something to kill the fist-size spiders, a can of spray paint to cover the most recent round of “Meet here at 1 a.m. for hot gay love” graffiti, a can of spray disinfectant that advertised a single contact could kill everything up to HIV-2 and a shovel to scrape off where someone had invariably shit on the seat over the week.
Patch.com was the worst job I ever had. » Read the rest of this entry «
#275: The Previous Administration
January 29th, 2014 § permalink
The woman in the “Free the NATO 3″ T-shirt served the drinks in the empty barroom.
“She was gorgeous,” the bartender said, gesturing at her own face in what I guess was a mime for pretty. “I know for a fact one of my friends had a crush on her.” » Read the rest of this entry «
#274: The Painting Architects
January 27th, 2014 § permalink
Gently, gently, they dabbed the paint as the posh cafeteria rattled around them.
A young woman who would someday be described as striking sat at one table in a blue dress with a copy of Hobbes’ “Leviathan” and a notebook. At another, a parent reached over to inspect his kids’ collar for stains or spills. A couple sat on one side of one table to share a dish and hold hands.
Others moved. Others ate. Others chatted and talked about all the art they had seen that day.
But taking up three tables in the back of the Art Institute of Chicago cafeteria, gently, gently, four architects painted. » Read the rest of this entry «
