The Goldfinch
But depression wasn’t the word. This was a plunge encompassing sorrow and revulsion far...
Read MoreBut depression wasn’t the word. This was a plunge encompassing sorrow and revulsion far...
Read MoreA five year-old in 1968 paints a picture. What’s in it? First, a mother, giver of paper and...
Read MoreAnimals, on the other hand, must be treated as well rounded, complex characters. They speak (or...
Read MoreBut it was spring. Even the lion licked the lioness’s smooth forehead. Both animals blond. The...
Read MoreThat night, at Boris’ — lying drunk on my half of the batik-draped mattress — I tried to...
Read MoreHe felt they were laughing at him. Confusion caused him to forget what he had meant to say. The...
Read MoreHave you got a biro I can borrow? I’d like to write your name On the palm of my hand, on the walls...
Read MoreI have lots of things to share now, in case we ever meet, concerning the message that was...
Read MoreGo placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far...
Read MoreThe Shared Patio Vincent was on the shared patio. I’ll tell you about this patio. It is...
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