Author Dan Buswell
“I can’t take you to the park, sweetie, because the Giants are about to start playing.” My mother speaks to me as I tug on her hand in the direction of the park. I don’t actually know where the park… Continue Reading →
“It must be so easy to be a chef around here,” my reflection in the small mirror above the sink said, “there are no other restaurants in town.” I stared, eyebrows raised just a little. I wasn’t sure I’d seen… Continue Reading →
It’s not kick you in the face spicy,But it sure as hell ain’t mild.It’s up around the hellfire range,But not so raw defiled.It’ll punch you in the ****,And then laugh to see you cry.You’ll be sweating, you’ll be sickYou’ll be… Continue Reading →