Mark Phillips' Pages: Workbook: February 2009

February 28, 2009: There's still time to make it back to school for your morning presentation.
February 27, 2009: I have his photo now.
February 26, 2009: Gunshots.
February 25, 2009: His photo in a wooden frame.
February 24, 2009: I saw his fingers tremble at the ticket counter.
February 23, 2009: Unfocused, listless, scattered.
February 22, 2009: Good man, good heart.
February 21, 2009: Buffet: trays of muffins under heat lamps.
February 20, 2009: Classic PTSD.
February 19, 2009: Special Forces school.
February 18, 2009: I gave up.
February 17, 2009: Travel in Europe, with a strange girl you barely know.
February 16, 2009: Familiarity breeds contempt.
February 15, 2009: Stolen motorcycle.
February 14, 2009: Cinderella.
February 13, 2009: You've joined the Special Forces.
February 12, 2009: I wanted her to be proud of me.
February 11, 2009: Walk in La Jolla.
February 10, 2009: I miss you very much.
February 9, 2009: The two of you are living in your childhood apartment.
February 8, 2009: Pudgy kid with a pageboy haircut pulls a wheel from a portable barbecue...
February 7, 2009: A cup of wine on the table.
February 6, 2009: I am a chauffeur, and a checkbook.
February 5, 2009: "How long has it been since you worked, ten years, then?"
February 4, 2009: I need to move forward.
February 3, 2009: Women huddle around the photos, nodding, pointing.
February 2, 2009: Older woman, unhappy about her age...
February 1, 2009: Confused.