A report from the bleeding fringe of non-fiction…
Polish author Witold Gombrowicz has a diary entry that I take into consideration continuously – one among my favorites in literature. On a Wednesday in 1953pertaining to a peculiar curiosity he felt creating, Gombrowicz asks: “Across the nook… what will likely be there? A man? A canine? If it’s a canine, what dimension of canine? What breed? I am sitting on the desk … Read more