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"Eva’s Byte #496 – A Weighty Subject"
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I have a strong affinity to bricks which your thoughtful post has evoked.
My dad was a bricklayer, his hands and wrists gnarled over the years by their weight.
I wrote a short story entitled The Bricks Lay on Grand Street. The title was taken from one of my favorite Dylan verses. "The bricks lay on grand street where the neon madmen climb. They all fall there so perfectly it all seems so well timed. And here I sit so patiently waiting to find out what price you have to pay to get out of going through all these things twice." That verse has acquired a new relevancy as I try to deal with a second Trump administration.
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