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Augustine listened to the piano man’s guttural voice sing the blues. The noisy smoke filled room was silenced by the power of his words and the complicated riffs he played – a driving life force that lifted him to another realm of understanding. The audience cheered when the music ended; the piano man continued to finger keys, some harmonic and some atonal. A drummer joined him, so did a bass player, and a wild-eyed young man of about twenty, hair ...
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The following short story (sketch) comes from a collection I just wrote and finished editing called NEW YORK CITY MOMENTS. The character of Augustine appears in most of the ninety stories that compile the manuscript.
It was 5:00 PM on a Tuesday afternoon. Augustine had just left a literature class at Hunter College and was on his way downtown to meet his friend Martin at the Whitehorse Tavern. ...
I listen to business people, and spiritual leaders talk about being centered, balanced, and finding love and compassion for the human race. Most people go inside themselves and discover the exact opposite: a mind that never shuts up, emotions that are like quicksand, and sexual energy that consumes them. They have no idea how to deal with their local insane asylum. ...