an armed man lurks in ambush

an armed man lurks in ambush

In this country, you can easily become the sort of person you never wanted to be, broken statuary along your path, an armed man lurking in ambush just ahead, schoolgirls whispering behind their hands. At one job interview, I’m asked the last book I read. I have to think a moment. The Big Book of Baby Names. The green envelope I find among the mail contains an invitation to the wedding of people I never met. As usual, I arrive late. “Did I miss anything?” Only distant stars, as pale and tiny as spider eggs.