There's a crispness in the air, but judging by the brown bat flailing on the Fayetteville Street sidewalk this morning, there's no enthusiasm yet for the season of spooks.
The creature fluttered and sputtered in front of the Capital Bank Plaza, indifferent pedestrians glancing at his last gasp, until a janitor came and unceremoniously swept him into the gutter -- where he remains to this moment.
I keep imagining his furry corpse morphing slowly back into its vampire form, and cursing the Monday sunrise with its final breath.
Josh Shaffer feels drawn to life's smaller stories – the tiny triumphs of ordinary people, the curiosities you see out the window of your car. He plays the trombone. He can juggle a little. His hero is this guy from Baltimore who lost his paycheck when it blew off his dashboard, and who responded by stopping his car to do a little dance on the shoulder and say, "Oh, well. I'll get another one next week."
