If he had remembered to meet her, it could have changed everything. What is uncertain is whether he would have been spared.
The boy loved seeing the tent from outside, lit up by firelight, glowing brightest where it was wearing thin.
A married couple and their twin sons weather the heartbreaks and savor the joys of family life over decades in this novella.
They all were going around trying to prove themselves, litigating the case for their own worth: Look at me, look at me, look at me—I matter, don’t I?
Who is there? I called when a spell of quiet passed, though I already had my guess, an automated sighting notice having gone out last week.
You’re safe now, said the plates, the walls, the glasses, even the golden chandelier that I hadn’t noticed before.
Your near-life experiences have coalesced in this momentary identity. You are a woman speeding along I-10 with a caged green-cheeked conure chirping by her side.
When you disappeared, three nights ago, I told them you were up north, visiting your mother. Why should I tell them different?
I decide to put the plant in the ground the next time we stop, to insist that something I’ve loved will survive me.
They tell me that my new job is to chisel a deep and lasting crack into the foundation of American democracy.