Apr 10, 2003 00:05
His mind was in perpetual swing at that time. (A leading cavity-fighting colonial desk doctor spoke highly of him. Even so, more than noone else.) His morning full circle. Fried ham and toast. Broiled toast. 3 scrambled eggs mixed with milk, hot sauce, and ingredients.
Paper plate on plastic plate, grease afloat. He bit straight into his fork. Straight down like a mousetrap. Knocked his glass of milk off the table.
Sunday night in the wet basement. South of Birmingham. 3rd Street Bar, 1 1/2 blocks from the best coffee shop in England.
Parking was hell all over the place.