This essay appeared on The Rail, the racing blog of The New York Times, on May 23, 2010.
By Leslie Guttman
Not too long ago, I lived in the San Francisco Bay Area one block from a busy urban thoroughfare and across the street from a large black dog on Prozac for his depression. My backyard was the size of a parking space, one for a compact.
WEKU-FM public radio special “This We Believe” | March 2010
By Leslie Guttman
The bookstore was warm and cozy. It was packed, maybe because people didn’t realize the rain had stopped. I was on a lunch break. I got a weird feeling. Someone was looking at me.
I looked up. A woman with long black hair about five feet away quickly looked back down at the book she was leafing through. I looked down, too. More people came in through the door. The gust of air that followed them smelled clean, as if it had been freshly laundered.