TNB: Still Jeff Lowe by Alison Osius
“If you don’t mind engaging in very slow conversation, I’m OK,” the man in the chair writes. In a world of quick, unpunctuated texting, Jeff Lowe’s words are precise, almost formal, as he sits in a wheelchair, oxygen flowing into his nostrils, his body curved around the notebook that is his fine mind’s satellite. He focuses intently, brow knit, as he pushes a pen with a pincer-like hand.
It’s a heavenly September afternoon, sunny and breezy. Directly below the second-floor apartment balcony here in Louisville, Colorado, a fountain swooshes. Visible in the grass across the patio are the green-and-brown rows of a community garden. Read More