K. A. Liedel

December 18, 2018

Crooked Houses

They always fidget. I see them from a distance, two at a time usually, huddling like frozen blackbirds on a telephone line. Most of them past middle-aged but always men, always thinking themselves younger and thinner than midlife’s reckoned. No matter how much confidence they exude or the little omens they project—squaring their shoulders up and keeping their heads forward and puffing their chest and fusing that imaginary steel […]