Invisible He looked to be in his early 60s: compact, designer baseball cap tight on his head, beard close-cropped, clutching a smartphone in his right hand. It was eight in the morning, we were in line at Whole Foods, and the guy was wearing sunglasses. I thought at first he was talking to himself in a quiet mumble, but he read more >>

Need Work When I saw the white-haired gentleman standing on the meridian strip holding a cardboard sign, I instinctively reached for spare change. I try to keep dollar bills in one of the dashboard cubbies so I can roll down the window and wait for the guy to step over. “Good luck,” I say. “God bless,” usually the answer. But read more >>

Close A quick look of mischief in her eyes. “Who’d you vote for?” I was getting a six-pack of beer, the obligatory I Voted sticker an emblem on my shirt. The young clerk couldn’t have been more than seventeen. Tall, thin as a rail, her skin unblemished and glowing in the supermarket light. I could barely look at her. “Hilary.” read more >>

Notes from Vegas Strip …a land of canned music seeping nostalgically out of every bush. Of young women waiting to accompany you in a photo, naked but for pasties, a pair of panties and a set of bunny ears. Of a garrulous Elvis impersonator riding around drunk in a scooter cart insulting passers-by. Of earnest men dressed all in black read more >>