I have laundry facilities in the basement of the apartment building where I’m now living. At 8 a.m., I thought I was getting an early start but there was Eve down there in the laundry room sitting at a table reading a book. I thought it could have been a Bible, but wasn’t sure. She eyeballed my two trash bags of dirty clothes.  

When I found out more about the dog late this past fall, I felt bad for what I’d been thinking all those months. I didn’t like the dog — whatever its name was. Turns out it didn’t even have one.  

The elevator wasn’t moving. I looked at the digital sign in it. It kept flashing ‘7,’ then ‘G’ over and over again. I pressed ‘7’ again. Again, the elevator didn’t move. Stuck. I finally figured out I was stuck.  

Patsy looks too young to have a small son. In fact, I didn’t know she did. I met him one afternoon two weeks ago. I wasn’t supposed to meet him at all, but I’m glad I was the one who was here to look out for him when he found himself with no family members around.  

I’ve been living in downtown Covington, Ky., since the middle of July 2011. Having lived in Cincinnati for most of my adult life and with a lot of that time working and/or living downtown, Covington has been an adjustment for me. In my view, Downtown Covington isn’t anything like the city across the river.   

Since Thelma and her new husband Bill didn’t really exist, they couldn’t attend my grandmother’s funeral.  

I realize I’m old school, but if I had requested someone to visit me and when that someone arrived, I would have taking that remote and turned off the television.   

I’ve heard things happen for a reason. I’m not sure I buy that. All I know for sure, in the case of Joy and Randy, is I wish things could have worked out very, very differently.
  

I looked at my watch. It was a quarter after 6. I figured with it being early evening, Walgreens, up on Madison Avenue here in Covington, wouldn’t be that busy. I’d walk up there and get me another bottle.  

On Labor Day, 1994, I got a phone call from twin brother’s friend in Seattle, Wash., where my twin, Jered, lived. This friend told me that Jered was in a Swedish Hospital in serious condition. He also told me Jered had AIDS. This was the first I’d heard about it.  

Out on the stoop, I’m smoking a cigarette, which is a big mistake. Kris has noticed me. He lives in a building up the street and he’s a pain in the ass. As he approaches, I already know what he wants.  

The last time Hope was in my life was early October, 1994. I had just come back from Seattle, Washington where my twin brother had died. We met at a bar in Price Hill. Hope and I got our drinks, went to a table and talked about my brother maybe for a couple minutes. Then we talked about bullshit things that didn’t matter. I remember feeling angry about it later, but Hope was just being Hope. Talking about real life wasn’t something she was interested in.   

It’s hard for me to really say when my eyesight started to go so horribly bad. I guess it was more or less a gradual thing, but during the spring of last year, it seemed to suddenly worsen. More and more, I was living in shades of pale.  

Strange sounds outside my apartment window in Covington have some along with the warmer weather. I often hear stray cats howling or even fighting early in the mornings. One recent morning in particular, they woke me up at five o’clock. It was a day I wasn’t really looking forward to.  

If I ever see Charlene again, I have a few questions I’d like to ask. Whether I actually ask them is anybody’s guess. I noticed her about a year ago. I was living in Westwood and had gotten a ride to downtown Cincinnati to catch a T.A.N.K. bus to Kentucky. We were waiting at the same bus stop at Fourth and Main. It was a cold winter morning. Awaiting different buses, we sat on the same bench. She kept looking at me and maybe I was looking at her, too.