What I’m Writing

it started with a hook

It started with a hook. Not one of those cute little Command hooks, or a drunk-octopus-wants-to-fight-you hook—a big metal Captain Hook hook; a scary hook. The night we met, I made you steal it. We were in the backseat of Dave MacLaren’s car, way out there on Comm Ave. in that no-man’s-land between Harvard Ave…

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