The following passages are dedicated to Leopold, to the vernacular, to certain evil women (you know who you are), to certain wonderful people(they know who they are), to soft afternoons and quiet Sunday evenings, to Fall and seeing your breath for the first time since Spring, and to Isabelle Ya Feng ... a soul slipped by like two ships passing in the still, moonlit sea. -- Abraham Ahmed, the Surfing Beatnik
Where are you?
It happend so fast - "A light?, sure!", I said. She sat back deep in her chair and placed her right elbow on the back as if it was an armrest. She crossed her legs. "Thanks." She said. She stood and walked away. Inever saw her again and I failed to ask her name.
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