Susannah Fontaine-Williams orders a martini, extra olives, and in a moment, the flight attendant brings it. SFW intercepts it as the flight attendant, a too tall man with a hard to place Scandanavian accent tries to place it on the tray table. She takes a big swallow, licks her lips, and says, "Oh, that's good." … Continue reading Jen’s crusade
What I'm trying to say is, I went to see Leibowitz the day he died as he sat half asleep in his car, a nice Saab convertible with 220,000 miles. It was one of the early '90s models, in that deep Saab red and I tell you it looked as good as the day he drove … Continue reading They were such quirky cars in their day
It turned out that Walt preferred being a dog, all instinct, and oh, don’t get him started about all the information coming in through that marvelous nose. It was as if he’d been living in a flat, soundless world suddenly endowed with dimension and orchestration. Sure, he missed his thumbs and the ability to grasp … Continue reading Something akin to an epilog
Susannah Fontaine-Williams searched Walt's lab, looking for Walt, or at least a note. Walt would expect her and if he was out, would leave a note. That's just the way he was. However, Walt was in a most decided state of not being there. She spied her bag on the table under the cold glare of fluorescent … Continue reading Susannah and the gummy treat
Susannah Fontaine-Williams is dozing in her hospital bed. At a few minutes after 1:00 PM she jolts awake. She’s forgotten about her show and it’s on live in an hour. She should be in the studio finalizing everything, having lunch with a guest, schmoozing the audience, doing all of the things she usually does. She … Continue reading Checking out
Walt was famished and though anxious to inspect and perform any necessary repairs to the bag, he stopped at Arturo’s for anchovies with mozzarella pizza. The anchovy fascinated him, repulsive, yet savory, ill-textured for the tongue, but somehow irresistable when combined with a crispy thin coal oven pizza base. He quickly downed the baked clams … Continue reading Anchovies and mozzarella pizza
Bob is standing next to Susannah Fontaine-Williams’s hospital bed. Macallan slouches in a chair on the other side of the bed, eyes shut, a crossword puzzle on his lap. Bob grasps her hands in his. A Dylan song plays dreamily, coming from someone’s phone or tablet. (Bob backstory here.) My love, she speaks like silence … Continue reading What about Bob?