Photo Source: Unsplash The Zilch I suspect the man lacked an inner monologue. When I spoke to him he listened and responded normally. I could not question this aspect of him. But during pauses in our colloquy, his face—his unblinking eyes—betrayed no indication that he was actively thinking of something. He almost seemed to turn himself off when not engaged. Not that he slumped over or closed his eyes. He just stood there, still as a statue but for his rising and falling chest, evidencing...

Photo Source: Unsplash The Proposal Nino the goat had brought the village great prosperity with his ability to predict outcomes of Serie A soccer games—achieved by way of pasteboard and hoof placement. The villagers had pooled their resources and made a killing with city bookies. A new fountain had been installed in the piazza, and a statue of St. Rocco, the village’s patron saint, was being chiseled at that moment by a renowned regional sculptor, Martino Bracchi, who promised a...

Photo Source: Pixabay Blue in Certain Light Our eyes meet under a streetlamp and I hold my breath. She nods, floats out of frame. I shake myself off and follow her to a tavern with a green-and-white tin canopy and blue neon Pabst sign. Time passes. My uncertainty swells. We stand next to the fogged entrance doors. No one comes or goes, though I hear a thrumming bass beat and voices. She lights a cigarette and smokes, fluttering her dark eyes. Then she speaks—some kind of patois. Then I...