
Tiger is a darker, larger version of Sunny Girl, the Pocket Puma. She's very calm and still. I think I saw her givin' me the Stink Eye.
TODAY, IVC's first summer session came to a close. I'm glad. My class was a good group, but eight hours a week with the same bunch of "yutes" is a bit much.
As I drove past Cook's Corner, I noticed, for the thousandth time, an old shed or garage. This time, I stopped and took a couple of pics. The shed is very cool.

They had some fun. Some evenings, in the shed. He threw a rock at her cat once. She got mad. "What's the matter with you?" she said.
It didn't last. The guy just left. Nobody knows what happened to him.

She thought of him toward the end.
Where did he go

7 comments:
dude, what you smokin'?
Kinda melancholy Chunk. What's up?
Sort of Jim Thompsonish. Very nice.
no, no, no - Richard Thompsonish:
...And they say her flower is faded now
Hard weather and hard booze
But maybe that's just the price you pay
For the chains you refuse
She was a rare thing
Fine as a beeswing
And I miss her more than ever words could say
If I could just taste
All of her wildness now
If I could hold her in my arms today
Then I wouldn't want her any other way...
(Beeswing)
Jim Thompson wrote The Grifters and The Getaway, etc., fabulous pulp noir.
Richard Thompson's pretty great too.
Some time in my twenties, I was a James M. Cain fan. Read everything.
Some time in my thirties, I became a fan of cats and their God-like stare.
Some time in my forties, I stopped listening to Richard Thompson.
Too inscrutable. --CW
That sounds like Jonathan Richman.
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