Bear with me. I started stupid, but I got smarter.

My expectation of lunch with Pamela Hall kept me from sitting still at the kitchen table and pretending I could write.

The plan was to show just how yahoo the Island market was, how it couldn’t sustain another major theatre on the North Fork.

Pamela presided over Thanksgiving at her rented home on North Road, three houses east of a landmark known in Isle End as The Flash Gordon House.

When Angelo was gone from the apartment, I felt his absence.

Of course, Jenny had been right. A suicide play for Christmas was an unmitigated disaster.

How I celebrated my 26th birthday; Apples, Macintosh and Big.
I was walking west on Main Street from the library toward The Green Door on a forgettable afternoon in March. In the residential area, melting piles of yellow-pocked snow were lumped about the curbs and roots of tall, old trees lining the avenue. Steam appeared [...]

“Green and Golden Girl” would open on Broadway in the fall.

Maybe if I’d known I’d be the only non-family member, I wouldn’t have accepted Hank Feit’s invitation to his Passover dinner, but there I was on his front porch that April Tuesday twilight.

It was July, just about a year since I had first arrived in Isle End, and not long before I would leave.