“A startling debut. Joshua Mohr takes us to a different city, but a city we know, populated by the dark side of ourselves.”—Stephen Elliott
Enter Damascus, the womb-like bar in San Francisco’s Mission District, and you’ll find Rhonda, a thirty-year-old man suffering from depersonalization — a disorder allowing him to reconfigure his reality to tolerate trauma. When Rhonda was young he imagined the rooms of his house drifting apart like separating continents as he raced to avoid his mother’s abusive boyfriend while trying to make sense of her extended disappearances.
The next stool over is Vern, a diaper-clad Vet nursing warm beers, who wishes for nothing more than the opportunity to re-break Rhonda’s arm.
Beside Vern, Old Lady Rhonda, a neglected housewife who excels at .
Some Things That Meant the World to Me
I’d like to brag about the night I saved a hooker’s life. Like to tell you how quiet everything else in the world was while I helped her. This was in San Francisco. Late 2007. I’d been drinking in Damascus, my favorite dive bar, which was painted entirely black — floor, walls, and ceiling. Being surrounded by all that darkness had this slowing effect on time, like a shunned astronaut meandering in space.
Joshua MohrOther Voices, The Cimarron Review, PleiadesGulf Coast
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