BEEN THINKIN’ ABOUT… BLEAK SUN. A winter sun set fire to the west and I stopped. For a moment, time stilled. The living room windows were dirty. The windows have needed cleaning for a season or two. Little time for that in the treadmill of surviving, responding, reacting. There are journalism notes to be thrown…
BEEN THINKIN’ ABOUT… SCARY GHOST STORIES. I climbed into my truck at nightfall, trusty Basset joining on the console. Key in ignition, watchful reverse into the alley. Bright crescent moon in the Southwest peeked through poplar branches. Truck tires on gravel, then edge-of-town asphalt. Yellow street lamps light the way, one block, two blocks… At…