me in the piazza

I'm a writer, publishing both as SJ Rozan and, with Carlos Dews, as Sam Cabot. (I'm Sam, he's Cabot.) This blog is a record of random and less-random thoughts, including the Saturday haiku, which I've been doing for many years now. I'll be teaching a writing workshop in Italy this summer -- come join us! If you want to know more about me, check my website.
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There's junk in the river

...and then there's junk in the river. As I've said before, one of the great things about the river is that half the time I have no idea what's going on. Ducks fly in a big hurry from somewhere to somewhere else, and then settle; a big empty barge heads upriver slowly on a Sunday morning; the Coast Guard rushes back and forth, then slows and circles. Or, you might find an entire fruit basket floating in the water with the rest of the debris. Is this the kind of thing you could lose over the side of a boat? Or would you chuck it in like a frisbee? How long had it been there? It was being tossed by impressive waves, too. One orange had floated out and was nearby; otherwise, six grapefruit, an orange, and an apple sloshed around but stayed inside it. I have a good mind to have a caption contest on this one. Yes, okay, go ahead. Best caption wins a copy of my short story collection, A TALE ABOUT A TIGER. Decision of the judges will be arbitrary and final. Post captions here, or on Facebook. Go!

fruit basket in the river

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