| Untagged | 15 Jun 2010 |
| A Concentration of Daylight by Rustin Larson | Comment (0) |
The freak circus is in town. Fairchild street, February 1974,
up the ice-patched, sloping walk and up the front steps into
the cobwebby and dirty entryway full of spooky old denim jackets
and jeans scattered every which way. The crooked staircase
up to the landing. And behold: tall Alfred Wain, leers over
the bannister. He throws his maniac's laugh.
"Well, well, what do we
