Hair still wet and smelling of chlorine,
"Hi Steve" he says as he re-adjusts his gym bag and smiles
"What..," I says, "You - swimming at the gym?!"
"Yeah...doctor says I gotta exorcize, or I'm gonna die. No
booze, either. "
He smiles again. "Well...," He says, "Off to Second*
to get a drink."
We both laugh.
That was the last time I saw Jim.
I wake up to NPR and Andrei
Codrescu telling me he's dead.
* Second Street Bar
Here are some sites about Jim that I've found
on the web: