The witching hour

The blue-white beam of my LED headlamp jostles over the packed dirt road as if it were the cratered surface of the moon. The narrow field of vision is disorienting, like watching someone run through a camcorder. The wind is up, 20-25 knots which makes my soul ache a bit as I picture Lake Michigan …

Watching my Boob tube

Can’t take watching this thing too much, it’ll rot my brain. Everytime it starts to build, I go a little haywire. I want to play hooky bad… All I want is for everything to stop, stay frozen long enough to get out on the water, slide down one of those glassy faces at top speed.