In old time in Wabash Street tavern, was silent as Sorrow’s nephew drowning, bubbles rising through glasses along long bar. Chair might shift, wood scrape on wood, cash register once in while go dja-tinngg as car go by in street outside, or alley. Now, over bar, three TV screen launch salvo after salvo stuttering flash, […]
Dmitri think much about women in these days. Read what they ask for in personal advertisement. Always, say “like to dance, like long walk, quiet time, Romantic evening by firelight,” etcetera, etcetera. This correspond not with any real woman Dmitri have had mixed pleasure to know. Real woman, once trap has snappèd, have no time
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All who know his shop call him Harry, though shop called “Nelson’s Books.” Dmitri call own boss Harry, only because he ask to do so. Not mathematician, Dmitri have counted hairs left on Harry’s head so many time that sure: three left, very long, most carefully arrangéd in halo formation, and quite right so, for
Sitting in tavern on South Wabash, look up, see on television set one very, very ugly man, black man with great growth on forehead, huge shoulder, neck. Think, another show about black criminal everyone fear here. No. Grotesque black giant open mouth and Dmitri expect curse, but instead sing. With voice that angel if were
At lunch today, took stroll in Grant Park, in rain so gentle nearly hover, coat open to almost warm that now for three days bless this February. Much dirty snow have percolated into ground, revealing umber shingles leaves and flatted grass already perking, like boy hair in bed at dawn. And what rich smell of
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Forward Dmitri Ashkanov first crossed my path in the early 1990s at Nelson’s Books where he worked as a clerk. For a couple of years, we spent a fair amount of time together, in the bookstore and in the taverns and coffee shops down around van Buren. Dmitri didn’t bother with personal resumes when he