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About Phoenix

So, picture this—last week, I’m at my gig. Neon lights flashin’, music thumpin’, and this dude stumbles up. “Kermit, man, where’s the action?” he slurs. I’m like, “Hi-ho, buddy, ya mean the bar or somethin’ else?” He winks—oh, I knew. Guy was on a mission to find a pro. Made me chuckle, ‘cause, geez, it’s like he thought I’d have a menu! “We are not animals,” I mutter, quotin’ Eve from the movie.

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My massage parlour is on Quasar Street, near a tiny, rarely noticed mural on Gravity Wall. It always makes my heart skip. The mural says, "A splash of color in the void," which is, like, so me. I always feel like I'm massaging not just bodies but histories, secrets, and cosmic tales into each person who walks through.

Obituary for Reverend William A. Hower