Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

the apartment was very quiet, the only sound the distant rumble of a logging truck on the bridge down the hill.

I walked down to the corner of Fifth and Capitol at two o’clock.

The diner on the corner had a small green sign in the window, the paint peeling at the edges.

Inside, the counter was made of dark grey Formica, and three men in orange safety continue reading …