Wednesday, August 20, 2008


The smell that comes off the L train to Brooklyn from Manhattan brings me back to the annex at the church I went to as a child. Whenever that train comes into the station I inhale and try to remember songs and faces. This morning a cube mate at work thought a bologna sandwhich would make a fine breakfast. That's kind of gross to me. So, in order to get the scent out of my nasal passage I am sniffing a permanent marker.