an old writer and his words

  • GET A ROOM

    You feel like a voyeur, staringas the red-shouldered hawksmate in a tree mere yardsfrom where you are standing. Still, you cannot take your eyesaway from them, your cameratightly focussed, an avianpornographer perhaps, or maybe just a lucky soul given the chanceto witness a ritual denied to most,and you know with luck their offspringwill repeat the…

    Lou Faber

  • SUNDAY MORNING

    Every Sunday morning my parents,usually my father at mother’s directionwould drive me the four blocksto attend Sunday school. I could easily have walked, a longblock and a half by cutting through yards,but they were afraid of I haveabsolutely no idea what. My friends that weren’t there with mewere probably in church soit wasn’t like I…

    Lou Faber