Touch and Go — Eugene Stein

Stick your finger in Shorty's rice pudding -- still warm from the pot -- at Mom's Diner. (Shorty's the cook.) There's always a word of friendly advice and a positive outlook here, and even the criminals appreciate the good service.

If you fall in love when you're traveling, pay attention to whom you trust -- and where you go. You have to be careful of Death in Belize, but the beaches there are very, very pretty, and the people, good-looking and kind.

Workers, unite! See the beauty of utopia in The Triumph of the Prague Workers' Councils -- Tatiana Malevich's masterwork in collage. The artwork's whereabouts remain shrouded in mystery, but Elaine and Jessica, revolutionaries and amateur detectives, are sure to uncover it if they don't kill each other first.

A Darvon, two Xanax, two Valiums, and some Chardonnay. Shula's got to look up that combo in the drug hotline handbook to know how it'll mess you up. Speaking of which, after all those Close Calls, why aren't you dead yet?

In Touch and Go, Eugene Stein evokes strange -- yet strangely familiar -- worlds, feelings you didn't know were there, flavors aplenty. Into the dark corners of your heart and mind he shines a unique light on love, life, and desire -- illuminating and brilliant.