When he’s gone this long, he usually leaves the terrace window open. Forgotten, or delayed. Either way, the food’s running thin, and the city’s seductions are calling. The strays in heat are yowling and leisurely carriages are clip-clopping outside my brickhouse lair. I pounce up the stairs to my landlord’s study, three flights above theContinue reading “Whitechapel Cat Calls”
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A Captain’s Compass North
The iceberg breaking hull was a master chef’s knife, wasted and gliding deftly through calm, buttery arctic waters. Clouds were pulling themselves apart and winter’s night sky constellations shone torchlights across scattered icebergs safely in the shadowy distance. This polar expedition passed quietly as the crew laid slumber and the captain handed over the night’sContinue reading “A Captain’s Compass North “
Paul Carreo 