Prioritous Diversions in Bag Form
“As
expected, I met Mr. Fleetmartin one more time before I left the country for
good. He had heard I was going to Germany , but
knew nothing of my plans to purchase an old warehouse there.” Nodwick paused, took a bite of his pansyloaf,
and glanced towards the tiny bandstand in the corner where a fairly adept Peter
Brötzmann imitator kept pace with the analogous rotor.
“You sound
a lot like me,” I interjected, continuing, “Although, of course I’ve never met
Mr. Fleetmartin,” as Nodwick took up the narrative once again.
“He told me
plainly that he thought I was a fool.”
.
