Field Report from Dring Lane: Eye of a Hurricane

I’m struck by the light this morning. Very clear very still very much in the now. It is quite striking but not like lightning which I’ve never been hit by. Thank you for asking.

I was asked by Brian Rose’s questionable son, Blobby Roses, to become a field reporter for FFF Magazine. Something to do with his father’s will and last dying wish and like the last thing he said, my name. Thank YOU for asking. I said “Branum, for you, and all your friends, and all our friends, and everyone we’ve ever known, and everyone that’s ever looked in the eye of a hurricane and all those kids down by the marina and everyone that’s ever asked, of course I fucking will, thank you for asking.”

So it is on an apple crisp and clear Brooklyn morning, the sun is rising in the east in Wallabout Bay, I think, that I log my first field report with you, dear reader. Let me, in the words of a man much wiser than I, just say, “now, for the first time ever, everything its possible again.”