His father had gone to Yale. Aunt Debbie had pointed that out to Elisha when he'd come back from the army and decided it was time for college. There'd been something about it having a good art school, too.
He'd just looked at her and enrolled in SAIC.
"Acceptable," he pronounces. "Does he have a name, or is he the Artist Formerly Known as Brian?"
He's sleeping now. It's hard leaning precariously over the tub so we can drink bathwater.
He'd just looked at her and enrolled in SAIC.
"Acceptable," he pronounces. "Does he have a name, or is he the Artist Formerly Known as Brian?"