Rummaging through a box of old knick-knacks I came upon a pocket watch. Pocket watches seem to have gone out with the Lindy and the speakeasy. It’s a shame, isn’t it? There is a certain dignity invoked when one is asked for the time and fashioning a response first begins with a knowing, slightly superior glance followed by a tug of a chain, not unlike the (more…)
Trask Avenue 