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Show 2923 South 20th East Salt Lake City, Utah 84109 (801) 487-9104 ACTING ALONE a novel by He's a mean mistreater, and he means me no good. But I can't blame that man; I'd be the same way, if I could. (traditional blues verse) PART I Chapter One The air around here was wetter than what Sam was used to. It made everything more fecund, ranker. The basement where Sam lived was full of cobwebs and spiders, beetles and crickets. It would've been full of the strange local golden cockroaches, too, but he ate out conscientiously, never brought anything edible into his basement. And he had calluses in strange patterns on his fingers from emptying his de-humidifier three times a day. It was like the jungles of Oaxaca. The noxiousness and the fertility welled up from deep inside of everything. There was "drizzle": a state of the air where little bubbles of water were suspended everywhere. You could see them, feel them on your puckering skin. Under the streetlights |
