Filed under: Imago
More from my old NYC novel:
Meandering around the streets of SoHo, intoxicated and carrying an empty wine bottle, Maxwell did not notice the gawks of passersby, nor the salutes of solidarity from homeless beggars, nor the chuckles of peddlers, one of whom, a slim mocha-skinned woman selling homemade necklaces and headscarves, paid particular attention to his zig-zag movements. She did not chuckle or gawk. She watched him wander. But then, an impatient customer demanded her attention, and the man was gone by the time the transaction was completed.
Filed under: Imago
When I lived in NYC a few years back (1999-2003) I wrote a novel. Granted, I was drunk on whisky and pastrami sandwiches while doing it, so I don’t remember much ( I call it my Bukowski period) but I did finish it. I think it would be better as a graphic novel or an epic TV series…but I think I’ll post some chapters. So Here is part 1 of Chapter 1 of Imago:
