Category Archives: Detroit
Just the smile of someone who is in on the secret.
And for twenty-five minutes I am warm and more alive
than the seven hours and thirty-five minutes between walls and cabinets three floors above.
Two important facts: first, there are two doors leading into this bathroom, one from the hallway and one from my housemate’s bedroom. Second, a deadbolt on the bathroom-hallway door allows it to be locked from the inside.
We walked a few blocks from the museum to find food (unreasonably passing on a café whose window quoted Jay Gatsby: “Well, he’s no use to us if Detroit is his idea of a small town. . . .”).