French Exit

French Exit

Malcolm was yet in his suite. He was speaking to Susan on the phone. “Let’s eat food, for lunch,” she said. “Can’t do that.” “Let’s drink a drink in a bar.” “No.” Recalling certain past behaviors, she deduced he was in the grips of the hotel unwellness. In a patient...
Agency

Agency

“You the app whisperer.” “They needed something to explain my being with him in the first place.” “‘Beta tester with a wild talent’? Decent hook.” “That was the lede on a Wired article, but only because I was with...
Nutshell

Nutshell

I stay awake, I listen, I learn. Early this morning, less than an hour before dawn, there was heavier matter than usual. Through my mother’s bones I encountered a bad dream in the guise of a formal lecture. The state of the world. An expert in international relations,...
The Wall

The Wall

Mornings on the Wall, dawn and dusk and night, were times for poetry. Skyconcretewaterwind. Afternoons were for prose. Ten thousand kilometres of Wall. A Defender for every two hundred metres: fifty thousand Defenders on duty at any time. Another fifty thousand on the...