Category Archives: semi-fiction

DOSED IN GOA by Peter Nolan Smith

In 1995 I ended up in Goa after a long trip through Tibet. I rented a cheap bungalow on Anjuna Beach and hired a Royal Enfield 500 to ride. The coast abounded with ravers, but maintained my distance. The bungalow’s owner had warned me that they were many thefts. “They are not good people. Not […]

CASSE-TOI BRIGITTE by Peter Nolan Smith

Working at a nightclubs I met a lot of people; famous, infamous, and nobodies. Sometimes I had no idea who was who. One night at Hurrah I stopped a skinny bearded man from entering the club for free. His massive bodyguard steered me right. “It’s Mick Jagger.” “That’s him.” The rock star was with a […]

THE ONLY YEH YEH GIRL By Peter Nolan Smith

The stars of the 1960s were transported by TV and radio to my three red-light suburb south of Boston. The teenagers of the 50s worshipped Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, and Buddy Holly as dead gods, but my generation’s focus was dedicated to the living. Bob Dylan’s BLOWING IN THE WIND knocked Elvis off his throne […]

BLESS ME FATHER by Peter Nolan Smith

My First Holy Communion and Confirmation of Faith to the Catholic Church took place at a church in Maine in 1960. My mother dressed me in white to symbolize the purity of my soul, although she had me wear a red jacket with a black velvet lapel. I had a fight with my best friend […]

ROUGH ROAD by Peter Nolan Smith

Peru sucked in 1995. The country was under siege. The War of Drugs had replaced the War against the Shining Path. The capitol city Lima was cool, but I had unsuccessfully spent the better part of two days trying to score a bag of cocaine. The airport police had fingered me as a user. They […]