The Air of Castor Oil

oor, looked around for intruders for the f

mach. I wasn't hurt badly. My middle was goin

I watched the shapes of

objectively, fo

tion was

he time was the late 'Fifties; anybody could tell that from the blank-faced Motorola in the corner, the new Edsels on the street. Memories of air

s, hearing Floyd Gibbons announce the Dempsey-Tunney fight, or

ould I remember taking a girl, brunette, red sweater, Cathy, and paying $3.80 each? I couldn't. Different runs. T

up a new

llections were false and unreliable. It would do me no goo

. Those cops couldn't have been true. They were a small boy's bad dream about symbolized authority. They were

,

face and pushed it

was one thing. Believing that you are actively caught up in a mixture of th

eded

was my duty to have myself placed w

for an advertising agency had taug

several psychiatrists. I selected one

t G. Rick

ddress and heaved

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