Simon Skinner is inept in the art of combining ingredients. Ana has therefore entrusted him with the most important task of stirring batter, though it is clear, as she peers at him, askance, at short intervals, that she does not entirely trust him with this. Every time she looks, he smiles, smugly, as if to say he has it under control. In a wave of ( Read more... )

Freedom feels strange ( Read more... )

January 20, 2005: George W. Bush is sworn in for his second term. Simon is at Ana’s home, staring despondently at the fishbowl that houses Iago. Ana has been in extreme and incurable foul moods today. Nothing that Simon has done has lifted her spirits. He has given up. He knows she’s not mad at him, but her anger, and his inability to lift it, has ( Read more... )

Simon Skinner stands at an intersection staring up at the sky-scraper. He had already seen the eye-level part of this street while walking to the art museum. The skyscraper hadn’t caught his attention then, perhaps because the sun didn’t hit it as beautifully as it did now. He never thought skyscrapers beautiful before. He grins. A time for ( Read more... )