archeologist scraped tiles fresco faded colors walls breathing dust a window slit Vesuvius view azure blue sky a corpse’s shadow dark red bones ashes for blankets shadings of wealth power poverty children and slaves soul dark...
In 1991 I was sharing a five-thousand-square-foot loft with a friend of mine in downtown L.A. The building was located in an industrial area on the outskirts of town. Most of the buildings in the neighborhood consisted of old...
Even for Cassandra, it was hard not to stare. The diminutive man appeared to be the consummate outcast. His ghoulish face, scarred with burns and deep gashes, exuded misery. Perched on his flattened nose, a thick, bent pair of...
The ability of writers to imagine what is not the self, to familiarize the strange and mystify the familiar, is the test of their power – Toni Morrison
