It sure ain't the straight story ... a woman wants her rent stabilized apartment back from her ex-husband, a priest lay dying, a man has had it up to here, another man sits on a stoop at night between drinks ...a street psychotic approaches... these are local people on the verge, or beyond ... are they real, imagined, spirits? ... a writer remembers, invents, imagines, observes ... no Vermeer here, more like a busted-up Braque, in this contemporary cityscape.
—T. D. White