@dominic.ray.thibodeaux

You have been at the screen a long time. It is a Monday, the work of it behind you, the scrolling behind that, and nothing is on. Somewhere past midnight in the small hours of attention you are back in the old threads,… read on →

You are standing in Houston, nearly midnight, in the legs of a twenty-seven-year-old, and you are bored of his knees. They never ache. His shoulders never complain. He has a lease and a statistics exam Thursday and a… read on →

I am sitting in Leonard Fontaine's kitchen with his knees complaining under the table, and I have been him for less than a minute when I know I'm going again. It isn't that anything is wrong with him. His body is big… read on →

You are Gerard Kinsella, four minutes old, and already the knees complain. Sixty-four years in a body that sits down like a dropped bag. You are on the edge of a couch in a Sunset District living room, and the bald head… read on →

You are standing at a window forty floors over a city that has gone orange, in a body that has never once let you down. Peter Joseph Hallahan has good knees. He has a jaw that people trust. Nine minutes ago you were him… read on →