Excerpt: Going Rogue

     Bolivia

     We were in bed again.

     I was on my phone writing comments for the New York Times.

Juanita wanted to know why I was typing on the phone and what was wrong with me.

“You are always doing that. I don’t even know what the New York Times is. “Mi héroe, mi chupapollas.”

The New York Times is the last word. “La última palabra. La última palabra. En cualquier cosa.”

“But what it do for you or for anyone.”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Beating up the dead, maybe.”

“¿Por qué lo haces?

Lions. Tigers. Liars. And bears. In the dark corners, and the secret places so nocturnal, ritual itself becomes the Russian steppes — in these cimmerian landscapes where light is forbidden, save witches not unlike Juanita and the wolfdogs, all carnivores, I am still Nasdijj.