Las Vegas, Nevada. Sin City, it used to be called. Now it’s glimmer and glitz, plastic flesh and plastic credit cards. Where America, and most of the world for that matter, goes for fun. But fun, I have discovered, can be a very passive program.
In the summer months, it’s hot in Las Vegas. And bright, because the sun glares down as if through God’s magnifying glass. Sitting in the midst of convection waves, as the heat bites the white dust and then shimmers back up, is Paradise. Paradise Memorial Gardens, a cemetery.