Craig Woodbern. Out of high school a couple years. He was a ghost that drifted through the crowds, in the background, watching, always watching. Kevin, his little brother, was my age and we interacted a few times. Nothing of significance but I never trusted him. Felt like someone best not to get close to. Because of what might happen. Nothing specific. Craig, though, another threat level.

Space Press Express was a community center formed by an old guy whose life was empty. Jim. Big fish in a small pond. We were the guppies. We published a zine under his tutelage on an irregular schedule. Printed it…