by The Editor
This perfect stranger came to town the other day. Tall guy, short hair and a small mustache. Showed up at the office asking for Simon, but Simon was at home, tending the sick wife, or so he said, so it fell to me to take the stranger for a quick tour around town. That’s what he wanted, a quick look around. Said he’d heard so much about Kavli he couldn’t wait to see the stadium (more…)
by Simon Robertsen
As if they knew him. My uncle. That he lay dying today. Like a long visible thunderclap over the grey sky. A loud recognition of his life ebbing away. They came as if they knew him. How odd, I thought. I wished he could’ve seen them. But then again, his eyes might have been shut already. I got up and took this picture from my bedroom window, thinking of this. (more…)
by Simon Robertsen
Oh the dream. And the waking up. A small town and a big star. Last night. I just wandered down and there I was, in the purple light. The sunset. A converted church. On Main. Hello! Please come in, oh you don’t have a ticket, no problem sir. And the songs, and the stuff, whatever, etc. (more…)