By Sam Munson. “I knew I was lost. Or would be in moments, as soon as this peruke reached me, this peruke at rest on the splendid head of my old foe, my single foe, my one declared foe and thus my archfoe, the long-dead German philosopher Immanuel Kant.” A short story. ____________________________________________________________________ I thought only Sligo had heard my moronic remark. But it became apparent, from the way Mark Dienst was twisting his mouth in embarrassment (mine, not his)...
