Mark's Pages

Workbook: December, 2020

• December 31, 2020: Part One was a badass, Part Two a sneak.
• December 30, 2020: Undoing.
• December 29, 2020: I have my childhood bible...
• December 28, 2020: I vividly remember painting.
• December 27, 2020: When she left him, did she move immediately to Yale Street?
• December 26, 2020: He was a "Mock-up Man".
• December 25, 2020: bait and switch
• December 24, 2020: So sweet your teeth will hurt.
• December 23, 2020: By the time they closed my college I was already done.
• December 22, 2020: I hate my apartment.
• December 21, 2020: Angel wing dumpster fire.
• December 20, 2020: My literature prof, also my faculty advisor, thought little of Kerouac.
• December 19, 2020: Rain through mountain oaks.
• December 18, 2020: Incented, the painted wind.
• December 17, 2020: "He is not keeping hisself clean..."
• December 16, 2020: I cannot be her absolution.
• December 15, 2020: "How do you know what's popular?" asked the scoffing man...
• December 14, 2020: She loved the Perry Mason television series.
• December 13, 2020: "Still the one I... run to..."
• December 12, 2020: The light changes.
• December 11, 2020: Memories triggered by geography.
• December 10, 2020: Voices in the drums.
• December 9, 2020: James Dean died in a Porsche racing car at the intersection of what are today California highways 46 and 41, outside Cholame.
• December 8, 2020: But there's that word, "evil".
• December 7, 2020: Her sister on the coast road.
• December 6, 2020: She was always so patronizing to younger adults.
• December 5, 2020: I remember that bus station.
• December 4, 2020: I had a small ring, with a polished rectangular stone, an agate, brown and very smooth.
• December 3, 2020: Better living through chemistry.
• December 2, 2020: I'm playing with the Beck Depression Inventory, a standard measure of the severity of the illness.
• December 1, 2020: One or two summers, we spend many days at the olympic-size outdoor pool provided by our sprawling apartment complex.