It’s Friday, and on the radio, Ronald Reagan is wheezing his way through a speech. I hear him often, he’s always on the news, on TV, on the radio. This is his decade, and from his sibylline delivery I learn that his economic policies will one day make me rich. I cannot understand how, and he does not explain it either; so, for now, I just hope that my mates and I can keep our jobs.Continue reading “On the Radio, Ronald Reagan is Wheezing by Adelino de Almeida”
“I love it when they say, ‘no offense but,’ and then they say something totally offensive,” said Lindy. “And by ‘love’ I mean hate,” she added unnecessarily, Barry thought. Not that he was paying much attention to his cousin’s nattering, his mind intent on the farce going on in the basement rumpus room.
Lindy passed the joint to Barry. “I’m hungry,” she whined. “Should we go down and snatch some food?” Barry held his breath as he stared at her, and then blew smoke into the whirling vent above the toilet.
“I’m not going back down there. You go, if you want.”
“Come on,” she said, nipping at his elbow. “It’s your party.”