A Life In The Mountains
January, 1985
"What About a life in the mountains?" I ask myself sometimes. It used to be a strong fantasy of mine, when all my goddamn city doings got to be like juggling knives and eating fire. When the muscles between my shoulder blades felt like barrelmakers had tightened them. When I'd get up into the airless little room that is my brain so completely that it felt like I was never going to get out, that I was just going to die up there, like some rat in an attic. Then I'd think about making a s...
