Category Archives: George Anderson

by George Anderson he was excited he was soon going to lose it he liked it he liked the feeling of being on the edge he liked the idea that words were splintering in his mind that words were losing … Continue reading →

by George Anderson One night I was sitting at the kitchen table with the old man laced to his beer & listening, once again in a caustic way to his crude repertoire of jokes & one liners. ‘I’m not prejudiced’, … Continue reading →