My short story "Prologue to an Imaginary Book" was just published in Cafe Irreal:

I overheard the following monologue on June 8, 1980, in a smoky bar off Winter Street, N.W. Paris, France. The narrator was one Joseph Velario, a short man of moderate build, nearly bald, with black-rimmed glasses. He wore a stark white shirt and dark pants, leather shoes with black laces. He spoke hurriedly, almost frantically, as if he felt there was little time to tell his story.

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