A crash leaves the horn blowing on one wreck, corner of Quarterline & Apple, Muskegon Michigan.

I encountered the accident scene, comprised of three cars shredded by the collision. Fire trucks and ambulances and police cruisers flashing their lights, a kleig light illuminating the wreck that has to be cut open, I can see a gurney awaiting its passenger, still stuck in the smashed sedan. A horn still blares, no hand pressing its bulb down. I have encountered a few crashes the last month, and I tell myself I should write down what I saw. It dismays me how quickly I forget the truck that hit a telephone pole two weeks ago. I can't tell you place and time: so much for my once photographic memory.

I am having a glass of wine at Bonicki's, standing next door to the defunct Someplace Else Restaurant. One more eatery dark in Muskegon. A woman is being comforted after a nasty break-up with a smooth talking man who sounds as if he has a harem. Three people are close to her, one with a hug and one with a shot and one with a ready ear. I would not mind being close by with a hug myself. She's rather attractive.