At some point in the process, the struggling paper became Atlanta Press , and then, in May of 2000, it became nothing at all. I was too late for their own funeral. It's always sad when a newspaper goes away, even when, in the Internet age, the words can live on in a sort of packet-switched amber. But we go on, separately, and I leave this little alcove of my world here, preserved. They're collected here for your convenience.
Critiques are welcome.
No matter where you go, there you aren't. Chunky leftover bits. And chaos Rose. In Brenda's shade. There's news, there's information.