Last breath of embers exhaling, stretching shadows like fingers, encroaching, dissolving into the obsidian asphalt, slouching with the rush of Genesis buried deep in the archeology of man on a horse... Move 'em on, head 'em up Rawhide.

He wore his anonymity like a well-tailored suit, a shadow in the peripheries of every social gathering. His real story, his narrative, was a carefully guarded secret, a mosaic of triumphs and tragedies known only to him. He was...

The static is spreading now, across my neck, down my shoulder, like spilled salt. It's a new thing, this salt, a flaking, peeling sort of dry. The doctor called it dermatitis. A word to cage the feeling, to make...