A husky voice and a belly full of air needs accompaniment. Influences range from Bluegrass to Beatbox. In time we might rock more than the Kavli Auditorium. Contact Dan “the Voice from Tomorrow”, at my private address: 1314 1/2 2nd Street, 80036 Kavli. You’ll hear me down the road.

So you thought we didn’t dance? Well, we do, like there’s no tomorrow. Kavli is practically the dancing equivalent to Las Vegas around here. Shoes are worn out faster here than a roll of the dice on your average table. (more…)

Winter has come early this year. At least in the mountains. It’s not unusual, but, I wouldn’t say it’s normal either. Anyway. We’ve had a long summer holiday here at the Post. Maybe too long some would say, but then again, we’ve been out traveling, both of us, Simon and myself. What can you do? Travel is the food of the soul they say, you know, Navigare Necessere Est, Vivere Non, so, what have you? (more…)

They come to see him nearly every day now, the emergency services. He’s my neighbour, and he doesn’t open the door. So they stand outside and knock and scream. I suppose they’re afraid he’s gonna die. They tell him to open the door, but he pretends he can’t hear them. I know. He’s told me. (more…)

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…)

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…)

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…)

What’s up with this cool cat? I like the attitude. Small-town boy like myself, I’ve got a little to learn from this specimen. So self-assured, or, if you like, “at ease” with itself. I wanted to pat this cat, but no chance. Like you see from the photograph, the window came between us (more…)

Some people get to be ghosts, for a living, and making some cash too. The writers these are, the ghosters, whose voices channel through another person (more…)

Apparently, in other countries, they play football (soccer to you dimwits) on pitches like this. This particular example taken from the harbor of Montevideo. At noon. Too warm for even the laziest of penalty-kicks. And who would have chased the lost ball anyway? Not me. No, give me a covered grassy surface with dew on it. And nets. (more…)