My friend Carol and I debate whether or not we have ever met. In the mid 1970s she came to Ithaca to visit Our Kate, and one of us believes we had a brief greeting, and the other believes that I was Tom. Whenever Carol visits Florence, she always stays at the Hotel Davanzati. Lately she has traveled to Stockholm, Budapest, Singapore, Marrakech, and Rio. In these cities she always looks for a hotel named Davanzati, or a hotel that combines as many of the letters of Davanzati as possible. This reminds me of the 1916 Ronald Firbank novel INCLINATIONS, in which Miss Dawkins strives to locate her lost father in all the capital cities of the world alphabetically.
A tone ball
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I heard something shifting around inside my guitar. After nearly thirty-two
years, the maker’s label had detached from the back of the instrument. I
turned...
12 hours ago


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