The Golden Gate

Working on the Sausalito waterfront in my teens, the Golden Gate was always in sight. My friend Des and I both lived in the city and drove across the bridge most days to the one of the last remaining shipyards there, where we hauled fishing boats out on the old rails and scraped and painted… Continue reading The Golden Gate

Falafel stop

As I came in to off the street, a woman is standing there, neither in nor outside of the tiny shop, reddened, cloaked eyes asking for help. She holds out her hand and the guy in front of me says “sorry, no cash,” and looks back at his phone. The woman pauses and then replies… Continue reading Falafel stop