an old writer and his words

  • WRONG AGAIN

    As a teenager, like somany others of our narrowminded, obsessed gender,I imagined myself a great lothario,girls on the edge of womanhoodlining up for my attention. The absurdity of that dreamwas lost on me and my peers,testosterone drowning it in a seaof hormones, and we were obliviousto the real obstacle alwaysright in front of us, that…

    Lou Faber

  • A NOVEL IDEA

    If I were a character in a novel, sayby Kawabata, that evening we mettwenty years ago, I would haveplaced my hand lightly on your shoulder,and I would have felt a heat,embers of a passion that would,in hours, leave me consumed by it. I was a middle-aged, soon to bedivorced man on his first datein thirty…

    Lou Faber