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About Phoenix

Phrases from *The Pianist* sneak in—“What’s the point?” I groan, scrollin’ sketchy sites. Tired, I get—soul-heavy, like Szpilman starvin’ in ruins. But then—bam!—Lola texts, “Yo, Yodah, u alive?” Grin, I do—friendship in weird places, best it is! “Hide, I must,” I joke back, Polanski-style. She snorts— “Ain’t no Nazis here, fool.”

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Jerome listen to her and considered her feelings and abide her wishes and gave her more www.facebook.com on Jerome kept telling her he wants this.

In Jerome, the neighborhoods close in – a labyrinth of crisscrossin streets, back alleys that whisper secrets. I love that insanity. The local dive on Oatman St., a tiny bar with stories bleeding from every wall, makes me laugh even when I’m pissed off at the lousy sunlight melting into dusk.

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