Fairy-Tale Poison
December, 1990
We're at a poetry reading, Duane and I, and this wispy, ethereal girl comes up to us. "Can I sit here?" she asks."Sure," we say, and move over. So she sits and kind of spreads herself out in a way that makes my intuition prickle. I watch her and wait."How much does beer cost?" she asks us. We don't know, exactly. She rummages in her bag and pulls out a bottle and crouches. "I brought my own. Hide me, OK? Don't let them see me." Duane, I notice, is becoming...
