Latest Article|September 3, 2020|Free
::Making Grown Men Cry Since 1992
1 min read
The Alibi offices are in a box canyon with boulders and scrub brush. Chris Johnson has left me a stack of forms to sign; I sign them with colored felt-tip markers that are running out of ink, and I’m frustrated by the appearance of my signature. The forms authorize the construction of sand walls which will turn our office into an open-air market place. I look down the canyon and see Neal Ambrose-Smith working in the production office.