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A Spell Without Books
Austin is built on a series of criss-crossing fault lines, the intersections of which cause parts of the city to sag into what might be called “seeps” or “sucks” — places where the earth breathes in and out, sometimes seeping and sometimes sucking.
November 1987A Curious Episode
The Madrid North Train Station was a newly-built but not fully operational facility, well heated, and very clean. Under the building, almost as an afterthought, were located the train platforms. The workmen had retired for the day by the time I arrived at six p.m. I placed my bags in a coin locker tucked away in a corner of the waiting area’s great expanse, then I cashed a traveler’s check and bought a ticket for San Sebastian. I had a three-hour wait and found a bench where I could stretch out, write a few letters, and, possibly, catch a nap in anticipation of my second overnight journey in as many nights.
July 1987The Reader Behind The Writer
A great masterpiece might sit there beside some obscure and shoddy effort. Schools and universities told you what books were great and worthy and famous; a library sat there mutely and let you decide.
October 1986Gold And Black
Then he turns to me, and direct as an arrow says, “You gonna be there?” (This, I thought, is what they refer to in books as “the moment of truth.”) My heart was creeping up my esophagus like an inchworm; but my tongue would not unwind.
October 1986Three Cities
A dozen men sit in comfortless plastic chairs staring at the floor. No one speaks. No one moves. Sunlight pours through yellow blinds into a room without time. It is clear that one is among the damned.
July 1986Letters From The Road
Greetings from the Laundry Basket, or more accurately THE LAUNDRY B SKET, a laundromat in Austin. The tall and weathered man next to me has been listening to Talk Radio: an anti-pornography Texan made the shrewd point that cigarettes can’t be advertised on TV. Then time ran out.
November 1985Beautiful Summer In Abano
Travel gets the ashes stirred up, gets the fire moving again. Travel gets the heart agitated. Travel makes the dust motes disappear. Travel makes the eyes light up and the stomach say howdy.
September 1985Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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