For personal reasons. Allagash. Often, maybe too often. Sharp, sharper, sharpest cheddar. & on the stereo. loud louder loudest. perhaps too loud.
The mud splattered victim.
No more hiding. No more heros. They’lll be reduced to zero.

I scanned a roll of old negatives. Darkroom. Old chair. Pictures on the walls. I recognize a Krims pinned to the board. And someone seated. Waiting. Someone I should know. Someone now famous. Probably just well known then. Sitting waiting and talking. I can see he is talking off frame. I’ve focused on the magazine at his feet. His hand is on his bicycle. Maybe on someone else’s. I just can’t remember. Old enough ago for the blur to mean more than just a rejected negative.

we were once famous, if we could just remember so long ago.