It was warm when we returned from Arlynn's eighth of 35 radiation treatments. I peeled off one layer as I was eating lunch in my apartment. Dumb mistake this time of year. About an hour later the sun was gone and the temperature started to drop. Then Frankie the Drunk, on his regular Monday jag, stumbled along and lingered, moving back and forth, threatening to topple all my wares. It's his day off. And then strike three - it started to sprinkle, so I packed up without any sales. I just wasn't in the right frame of mind, a general funkiness due to allergens and neck pain. There was a positive aspect to the shift, however. Alex, who lives in the building on whose grounds I so often set up shop, stopped to chat. He revealed that he is a poet and asked how he might get his work into print. I told him about duotrope.com, and he reacted the same way Bob Rubenstein, author of Ghost Runners, did when I gave him advice: "It goes to show - you're meant to meet some people." I wish I believed that as fervently as they do. I'm not even sure I believe that about the three women I've loved in my life, although something clicked immediately the first time I saw each. It was as if they were supposed to be there. Anyway, good luck Alex.
I had good luck at Bay Parkway yesterday, selling all the Russian children's books I'd found. Spasiba, ladies. I also sold a bag of Arlynn's children's books and a deck of cards inscribed with spiritual messages by Sylvia Browne. I asked the customer if she knew who Browne was and she said: "Yes, she's on Montel a lot." That was good to hear, as I'd come into possession of several of her books, some in hardcover, courtesy of one of the local buildings' porters..
Read Vic's stories, free: http://vicfortezza.homestead.com/
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