November 1948
Vino Vignette
Beautiful Solid Joe
I FIRST saw Joe four years ago. On that rainy November night he looked like a grayghost, frayed around the edges, sad eyed, and dismally tired. I remember resisting the impulse to touch him--just to see if my hand would puncture some smoke-like transparency--a wraith who had made a wrong turn on his way to wherever good wraiths spend their time.
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