J. Bandersnatch
-
DETAILS A constant and almost unnoticeable weight in your pocket and in your life, you transfer it from one pair of pants to the next as a matter of habit. You might go days without using it, but you are guaranteed to need it on the rare occasion you leave it at home. You are…
-
DETAILS Rome – 1997. I missed the first train. Everything that happened stemmed from that small and seemingly random detail. An hour to kill on the platform. Tossing cards into my bag (backup set, of course; not the pack I found in Austria – see page 32); missing more often than not. Bored group of…
-
DETAILS The sort of thing that I think very little of, until it is missing. I had a roommate in school who insisted that the belt must always match the shoes. That it served as the anchor of any outfit. His words, for some reason, return to me as I stumble through Queens in the dark, hiking…
-
DETAILS The snow keeps falling. Ever since I stumbled into that thrift store by the airport, looking for an ‘emergency’ pair of jeans following an…incident. The clerk (and only occupant) of the establishment seemed incapable of emotion; responding neither to my sudden entrance nor my state of advanced disarray with even an elevation of his…
-
DETAILS Binghampton in August. I’ve come to in yet another alleyway. The smell of rotting garbage assails my nose like the unspoken promise of the universe’s constant decay. The heat is a physical presence; a weight that I bear, offsetting the bruises I feel and the (broken?) ribs that sing their song of agony with…
Matt Greene 