"So," he smiled, "correct me if I'm wrong..."
"Oh, brother!" I interjected, "That's bound to be a never-ending job!"
"But," he continued unperturbed, "didn't Poe want to have his own magazine?"
Friday, April 20, 2018
Bartleby, the Scribbler
"So," he smiled, "correct me if I'm wrong..."
"Oh, brother!" I interjected, "That's bound to be a never-ending job!"
"But," he continued unperturbed, "didn't Poe want to have his own magazine?"
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A High-Handed Horse
There's nothing to this. It's merely the result of spending some time in the company of a pencil when neither of us had much to say.
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The sun was beginning to set by the time I eluded my final pursuer. Having a moment to rest, I studied my surroundings. I had never been ... -
Just to be nice, because I certainly didn't want to, I accompanied Odysseus that night to the old cemetery (you know the one ... -
They walked together in the twilight, arm in arm, down the boulevard and onto the bridge. She had never felt so happy. She glanced up at him...