No. 189 - Bourbon Street, the Beach, and a Maybach
2,820 Words. 11 Minute Read.
A drifter’s pilgrimage through the South, from turtle soup to silence.
No. 177 - Under an Awning in Austin
653 Words. 2 Minute Read.
I walked under the awning of an old gas station that was now a repair shop for junkers. Since it was around sunset and the business was closed, I took a seat on a metal chair in front of a big pane of glass that hadn’t seen a squeegee in decades.
No. 171 - Bookshops, Mountains, and the Red Manifesto
1,252 Words. 5 Minute Read.
I swung by Alienated Majesty Books, a small, locally owned indie shop near the University of Texas campus. Do you know how odd it is to not know a single author? To walk amongst thousands of them was the literary equivalent of taking acid in a forest of mirrors.
No. 169 - The Hair Dryer Called Austin
697 Words. 3 Minute Read.
The air was brittle, blanketing, obnoxious. Austin is like living in the path of a massive hair dryer—morning, noon, and night.
