… and it looks like the Geelong Road.
Cables Bar and Grill.
“Do you want a whole bottle of Pinot grigio? I’ll have to check and see that’s ok.
Cables came recommended by a local with a walrus moustache. “It’s the only place to eat in town.”
“What sort of food?” I asked.
“American,” was the reply.
And indeed it was American.
Philip K. Dick’s ashes are interred in Fort Morgan. It is hard to imagine a less post-apocalyptic berg than Fort Morgan. Dick’s interment in Fort Morgan is one of those monuments to weird possibility.
I guess that’s the story of life: what you most fear never happens, but what you most yearn for never happens either. This is the difference between life and fiction. I suppose it’s a good trade-off. But I’m not sure.
— Philip K. Dick