Spitball Army

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Leaping out of bed, she thinks: Today is the day that I read Kierkegaard. She brews some coffee and sits down to work a Sudoku.

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17…18..19,20! She opens her eyes. Down the hallway, her sister hangs breathlessly in the laundry chute, covered by a bathmat.

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Holy time capsule! Where did some of these artists go? Rees Shad? Gillman Deaville? (Who is Rees Shad, anyway?)

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“Subway people won’t look at you,” Dad said, first trip to Boston. As a challenge, he’d extend his lower lip and stare them down.

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This recipe has evolved from several attempts to create a tomato-less relish that can be used for multiple purposes.

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His list read “Meeting with Harry,” though he didn’t think he knew a Harry. He checked the calendar to be sure it was still 2008.

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