Sebastian wiped the rain out of his eyes as he stood before the king, helmet in hand. He had ridden all through the dark day in a downpour and was wet to the bone. Charlemagne had not asked him to sit, nor had he looked at him since he had been admitted to the royal chambers. The king stood at a window, watching the heavy thunderbolts crashing down just beyond the... Read More →
The boyhood of Enoch Tapley Randall was unlike that of anyone else I ever knew, set in an ironic background of high privilege and base instincts. I met him at a bookstore where I worked in Boston in the 1970s, then saw him occasionally in New York City during the 80s. After a period of time we reconnected in Seattle in the 90s. Over this time he became a good... Read More →
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