Loneliness approaches slowly. Often you don’t notice it until it’s already smothering you from every direction, cornering you in the dirty fly-infested kitchen at three in the morning while you are drunk and vulnerable, feet aching from walking all the way home in borrowed shoes. …
A New York Times editorial by seems-like-a-smart-guy, Syon Bhanot of Swarthmore College, urges me to tamp down my desire to return to normal socialization. No one has to convince me to stay at home. My nails look terrible. Syon—I feel we are close enough after …
We compete for who can launch farthest from the highest arc of the swing, then tussle together and dust off. “I win,” I screech for all the universe to hear. “I’m going to be Colored.” I spin around until I’m so dizzy the sky …
In October, when the temperature was eighty-five degrees, Sarah put on a blue wool turtleneck, turned the air conditioning in her car to sixty, and drove to the grocery store in search of fall. She turned right when she spotted the red-leaved trees—not exactly towering …
This is the story of Messer Dezza, a middle-aged Milanese businessman who, after years of suffering the famous oppressive heat and the annoying mosquitoes of the Po flatland and being tormented by the traffic noise and the hustle and bustle of the city, decided to …
Julie’s face hardens to match her thoughts. Sid might be her only son, but he has no right to tell her what to do. The wooden cremation container, now emptied of her late husband’s ashes, makes a great footstool. Haven’t other lodge residents said how …
After returning the pamphlet to where it had lain, Johan shouldered on his jacket, slumped down onto the porch, and pulled on his leather shoes – tying the final knot, muddied water wrung out onto the tongue. ‘What does it mean by ‘verdant’?’ He thought. …
Do you know how much I look at bodies? I say. What? My mother says. We are at the kitchen table again, sitting across from one another the same as every night, drinking black tea she squeezes lemon into. We build a puzzle we’ve been …
Airports are a place devoid of time and existence. Life stops once you step onto the unloading curb, the thick smell of car exhaust and hot tarmac burning your nose. Flights can be as late as they want and you have no control. Drinking beer …
After decades of stand-up, the comedian sits down to watch the news. What else is there? He practices the clarinet and irons out the details of cancelled shows over the phone, but the days are long. He doesn’t require much sleep. Sometimes he senses the …
