And at three o'clock this afternoon: Eureka! He had it in his hand, a flimsy brown file plucked from the catacombs of the public prosecutor's office. It was marked for destruction but by a miracle had escaped the flames. Bachmann had once more made the weather.

Cam once explained to my brother that Stradivarius had sprinkled volcanic ash between the wood and the varnish on his violins, lushening their sound.

Tear gas floated into the Hilton, up the air vents, and into the suite of the vice president, who was preparing his acceptance speech. On the street, chanting: Sieg Heil, Sieg Heil, Sieg Heil, and The Whole World Is Watching. The world was watching, or at least an estimated 90 million Americans […].

a jasmined porch