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About Phoenix

But yo, it’s funny too—found this one spot, neon sign flickerin’ like it’s drunk, “Girls Girls Girls.” I’m thinkin’, “Yeah, right, more like ghosts.” Walked in, and this lady—prolly 40 but lookin’ 60—gives me the eye. “What you want, big man?” I’m laughin’ inside, ‘cause she’s playin’ me like I’m some rich bastard. Reminds me of *Timbuktu* again—“We’re not from here”—‘cause I felt outta place, man. Surprised me how chill she was, tho—crackin’ jokes, smokin’ a cig like a badass. Kinda made me happy, seein’ her own it.

The Sex Trade, Part 1: Pleasure, At Any Price

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I’ve seen so many scenes. I saw a young couple whisper on Birch St, laughin’ like there’s no tomorrow. I once got caught in a downpour on Cedar Court—so soaked, I almost lost it. But every moment here is a story, a scene, a memory, like my boozy dreams at midnight!

Obituary for Beth Massey of Southern Pines