phikasos

phikasos

At first it was hard to make anything out in the dim shadows. There was a small corridor with several doors: a padlocked fire exit, one marked Men, the other marked Ladies. There was usually a small crowd milling about, some men leaning against the wall smoking, others keeping moving in and out of the toilets. The stalls inside would be the scene of frantic movements, low moans and occasional piercing screams of delirious pleasure. The action made the cinematic sex nearby redundant, distant, and...

Bbucko

Soundtrack

I grew up on Boston’s South Shore, the Irish Rivera. It runs from the bleak and gritty urban wasteland of South Boston and Dorchester right through to the disappointingly familiar barnboard tourist traps of Plymouth. I lived in the chainlink jungle of Weymouth, part scruffy beachtown, part dead milltown, part Levittown of cramped capes and ranch houses. A bus ran on the main road at the end of my street to the subway in neighboring Quincy, and from there I could be in downtown...

Bbucko

invisibleman