A stretch limo.
A what?
He left in a stretch limo.
I’ve been accused of channel surfing
and biting my nails.
And worse.
Worse?
I’ve been accused of stink eye.
Stink eye?
Yes, stink eye.
I’d like seconds if I may.
We don’t have time.
Look in the clock!
The clock?
The clock.
Look in the clock!
The Hardy Boys.
Who?
The Hardy Boys.
While the Clock Ticked.
I had the whole series – all 190 original mysteries.
Yes, and?
A connection.
How so?
Pass the daguerreotypes, please.
We need all the help we can get.
Holmes and Watson.
221B.
Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce.
My favorites!
Did something happen
at the fork in the road?
Was a CIA graduate involved?
Will we ever know?
Wait. There are voices in the walls.
What?
Voices in the walls.
Listen.
Is this as it should be
or as it should have been?
I have no idea.
Did I say something to upend you?
I don’t think so.
Just keep reading the book
from sea to shining sea.
It's all there:
all the questions,
all the answers.
A team of horses.
Where?
A team of horses
cantering through the afternoon.
Ladies and gentlemen!
Hedge your investments!
No cab awaits your departure.
No bell ends the round.
The season has changed.
The community room has been repainted
for incoming Freshmen
ill-formed products of texting
truncated, housebroken.
Laden with knock-offs?
Gloomier than Milton.
Idols of the kings and queens of darkness.
Last night, a woman appeared in my dream.
Barcode tattooed to her cheek.
Kindle embedded in her thigh.
Hijacked with wonder and glitz.
I was entranced.
She was trying to tell me something.
Something about the old neighborhood.
What?
A vase of delphiniums on the table.
My mother climbing the stairs.
The hiss of the stove.
Kukla Fran and Ollie!
You can’t go home again!
Why?
Edits, redos, rehabs, regrets!
I warned you!
Time for another patdown.
Already?
If they want to, they will.
You know it as well as I.
Yes, but what about escape?
Not a chance.
But it’s worked for some.
Name one.
I can’t right now.
But I know I know.
All glory is fleeting.
Huh?
George C.
It was here. The battlefield was here.
Stop it!
Your memories will collect dust.
Irregularities will intrude.
Wrong numbers.
Misplacements.
Things will fade.
Become sepia’d.
Do I have a choice?
None.
The clock is relentless.
