A Story In 100 Words

Charlie Bohack! Charlie Bohack! Five-and-dime derelict turned depot Demiurge, soot-stained, reeking; his thermos filled with God knows what. He’s rattling off again: In the 60s he was the beau of long-legged gals with Cleopatra eyes; he had seduced Charo (or was it Cher?)at Studio 54, with Travolta-like moves and an avalanche-white smile; and was weaned on Goddess’ teats, on the Good Stuff, but Old Crow and Granddad could hold him for a spell.

The 8:15 is on time (Thank God!). Bodies and briefcases careen around the Bohack-pylon. Chug-Chug-Chug! Charlie Bohack grows small, but of infinite potential, dancing on the tracks.

From Guest Contributor, James Zahardis

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