Marty Barrett is a writer working in Los Angeles.
“It was one of the most gallant, generous, manly and disinterested Actions of my whole Life,” wrote Bart Sugarman, “and one of the best Pieces of Service I ever rendered my Country.”
Even murderers have families.
We don’t know what Mr. Martini would have got up to in Pottersville because it is simply too horrifying to consider.
“Silent Lucidity” would be such a great song if “Comfortably Numb” didn’t already exist and I didn’t understand English.
Perhaps Eliza reasoned that a man who speaks redundancies would lack precision elsewhere.
The Massachusetts accent isn’t achieved simply by dropping an R.
I would like to make the righteous protests of my future beautiful ones.
“Now I’m that guy with the dog that attacks people,” I would have said, weeping bitterly, from jail.
It’s missionaries, I think. I always talk to missionaries because they can at least put me down as a “maybe” and get more mission-kibble.
“This isn’t fun for me, either,” I said. “But let’s get through it.”
© 2019 Marty Barrett.
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