A COFFEE WITH DEATH James Ishmael Ford Death and I are old friends. Okay, maybe not friends. Or, only in our contemporary sense that has become so attenuated that it has little practical meaning. We’re more acquaintances, a sturdy term, for that much larger circle of people we know, but aren’t friends in the increasingly intimate sense that word should be reserved for. I don’t recall when we first met. As I think of it I... Read more















