Government Thievery

I picked up Milo in Norfolk, close to ODU. His car had broken down. He’s a middle-aged guy–gray, bearded, stocky. And he had a thick accent that I couldn’t place. “Okay, I give up. I’m usually pretty good at identifying accents, but I don’t recognize yours.” “I’m from Cyprus. It’s an island…” “I know where… Continue reading Government Thievery



Grace sat up front, something I always take as a sign of friendliness. But she just silently stared at her phone for a while. I had picked her up at the Block–a spot on Atlantic between 21st and 22nd street where four night clubs abut one another. It gets pretty wild there on weekends in the… Continue reading Lonely