Tom Manshreck is in town. Tom was living in NYC, working in publishing. There's a lot of publishing around there. Tom was working on engineering textbooks, but he still cares about the literary stuff.
Evidence: Tom came home from work one day and outside his apartmeent found an abandoned dog. He took in that dog. He named that dog Faulkner. I met Faulkner last night.
If this was a joke, then Tom would have told me, "This dog can speak English." And to prove it, he would have asked
"What's sandpaper like?"
"Where is the chimney?"
"Name a fictional county"
...but this wasn't a joke. It was a good evening with old friends.
Labels: books, words