Date: September 27th, 2026 3:45 PM Author: crystalline point
It's the album Cracked Rear View coming from the stereo across the old kitchen, complete with ants and mice and vermin of all varieties, the back door to the shotgun masonry house open, and the little screened in porch, the one that had no lock, just a hook latch where the grill sat covered in pollen and dust that seemed an inch thick. The oil based blue paint and long ago faded to gray and was flecking off just as the last light of day was bleeding off.
I sat there, a bright emerald can of Mountain Dew between my knees, staring off through the half de-leaved oaks of autumn, I inhaled that air and bathed in the last golden rays of the day.
That bungalow on Everett Avenue was demolished years ago. But it's where I first met Coetzee and Melville and even Stephen King. I will never forget it.