Part four; connections between the then and the now…

a montage of the author; driving and observing at night; riding a bike against a self-imposed deadline; a bull, presumably in a china shop; intellectual judging themself by an impossible standard; and looking at it all; still not knowing what is right or wrong.

By Thomas Krawford Jr.

“Don’t be afraid to speak better of yourself to others,” her eyes softened themselves to him as the two embraced in front of his downtown Ann Arbor apartment in the waning light of that late Easter afternoon…

Part 3 Easter Day.

by Thomas Krawford Jr.

(the 2021 rewrite; A Winter to Spring version).

A watery wave view of intended sacrifice as an actual folly.

Let us begin with how we shall begin.

Think with your fingers, starting with Friday.

Our fifty-nine-year-old Custodian II found himself in the breakroom today at work; March 12th, 2021, chatting casually with his…

by Thomas E. Krawford Jr.

“What did happen; amounted to; quite the contrary; first at Ann Arbor Yellow Cab…”

Today was the first day of March 2021, and all day at work, Our Custodian II thought about how best to continue with the telling of his story. He realized that…

by Thomas E. Krawford Jr.

The author's GIF montage, a blackbird amidst a verdant thicket regarding a day lily and a long journey.

We cannot yet call It music; the sounds Our college dormitory Custodian of 2021 knows that he thinks he hears today; pieces of sound arrangements in terms of pitch and rhythm; melody and harmony; points and counterpoints that always come from deep in his mind…

session c: the second interview…

By Thomas E. Krawford Jr.

Back in the early summer of 1979, Our Young Man sat in the back hallway of the Bloomfield Hills apartment home he shared with his sister and mother at the time. He sat there on those rear steps, thankful for…

session b; the first of three interviews…

by Thomas E Krawford Jr.

Originally one of my mother’s favorite captures of my work as an amateur photographer, this posing black-winged bird regarding a day lily is portrayed here distorted by both a dreamlike recollection and the static of uncertainty about the dream.

Our Guy; a young, confused Black Man then, in the Bloomfield Hills of 1979; who today authors a written performance putting the pieces of he and his family’s lives together and apart; believing that whether the story sells…

session A…

a black-winged bird amidst the vegetation of a woodland Forrest and a day lily…

by Thomas E. Krawford Jr.

…Then Mr. Koppitz, Our Guy’s high school Typing teacher, at the last minute, changed the failing grade to a passing one; and the Office Secretary then rewrote Chad Smith’s Diploma; putting Our Guy’s name on the document instead…and so, he graduated on time…

By Thomas Krawford Jr.

a light post framed against the background of a setting sun in late summer; a hesitant rain starts and stops

It was 9:00., Saturday, the night after the Ohio State University Football team, against some tall odds, beat the Clemson University Tigers in the Cotton Bowl; College Football’s semi-final playoff game; a David and Goliath narrative if there ever was one.

The Custodian thought to himself…

the author/performer

By Thomas Krawford Jr.perfo

The Writer of this narrative, who lives in the present as a Custodian II, bowed to this project's narrator, giving them the floor.

“In Our Young Man’s situation in the Bloomfield Hills of 1979,” the Narrator began. “Getting away with something meant getting away from his…

a picture of the author staring down the maul of a long metal hollow.

By Thomas E. Krawford Jr.

It was Sunday evening, December 20, 2020. The Custodian, Our Custodian; the same one we have come to know well enough across the preceding installments of this overall narrative experiment; was watching Van Ryan’s Express on Apple T.V. For our Custodian, that is not what…

Thomas Krawford

I guess in many ways I’m pretty naive. I believe that our sub conscious is as organized as our conscious selves and I have devoted my life to proving that 👋🏾

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