Hand Chair
I refuse to get rid of the Hand.
Stories — true, invented, or somewhere in-between.
I refuse to get rid of the Hand.
My name was on the registration found in the getaway car.
You could slam the receiver down to hang up on someone.
“Dude,” he said to me, “you look ridiculous."
I sought to be as normal and unremarkable as a John le Carré spy.
Helena’s gang was the cream of 1970s Hollywood.
“Wow — that’s the most pretentious thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Being trans requires a certain level of defiance.
Timothy Leary said, “Find the others.”
I started to look for artefacts to root me to a certain time or place.
I can’t seem to bring myself to paint over the remains.
My hands were shaking as I unsnapped the pouch.
Bust of Duck brought instant amusement to our racing minds.