Tipi bedding. Photo credit: Michael Daly circa 1991 (Gabriele’s journal – May 8, 1992) (Nick’s narrative – June 2, 2022) Tito had gifted me a small hatchet from one of his thefts. Not that useful as a tool, but I found it evocative, and immediately began transforming it. I carved a turtle ideogram and other markings into its wooden handle. I sharpened the blade and practiced throwing it at the tree stump we used as a stool next to the…
Warhammer 40K Fan Group artwork (Gabriele’s journal – November 22, 1990) (Nick’s narrative – June 9, 2022) I stood a body’s length away from the tree stump stool. I raised the hatchet deliberately over my right shoulder, holding it there for a moment before uttering the four syllables under my breath and throwing it. “Ta-ma-hee-kan.” The sharpened blade of my war axe stuck into the side of the stump. “That is badass, man. Can I try?” I pulled the hatchet…
Dia De Los Muertos — Mexico City Parade 2016 (Gabriele’s journal – August 6, 1991) (Nick’s narrative – June 16, 2022) Miguel nodded his head yes. “Okay, give me a minute.” He took a couple slow drags on his cigarette. He seemed apprehensive to speak. Only after he told me the story did I understand why. “Yeah. Three of them jumped me in the street. They had Halloween skeleton masks on. They put a hood over my head, tied my…
(Gabriele’s journal – April 26, 1992) (Nick’s narrative – June 23, 2022) We walked out into the yard. “Tell Red that Mickey D said hi.” Miguel walked away, but his horror tale remained. His and Blades’ stories were etched into my mind like the “life mark” brand on their necks. I wanted to talk to Coco about Miguel, not so much to confirm what he told me, but to maybe find a backdoor way into getting information about who was…