> I. Out of fuckin’ nowhere, my former jazz instructor appears, crashing out through the back of my closet, chortling aphorisms about when and how to place the beat. He snaps, I paint, and (this is the only sign I get it right) we summon my great-grandmother. Age’s morphed her bat-shit crazy. She appears in my reflection, tries taking over my body. I blame it on big pharma; she blames it on the man living beneath her rug. He’d stay … Continue reading $934,550.00