It hadn’t been good for quite some time, but it was time for them to admit to themselves and to each other that now it really wasn’t good, and wasn’t going to get any better. Neither of them liked the doctor, a young Indian. He was a man who’d built too much science around himself, … Read more
When I was a kid, there was this store out at the mall that sold cheese from all over the world. The place reeked. They must have had hundreds of different kinds of cheese. I like cheese as much as the next guy, but you wouldn’t think there would be any real need for so … Read more
The day had been hot, and it was apparent that the night would bring little relief. There was no wind, nothing but the humidity and the stillness and the swelling sleigh bells of the cicadas from the trees. Up and down the block people were sitting out on the stoops of the apartment houses and … Read more
I was sitting in this hotel bar in Sacramento one night a few months ago. It was early in the evening and the place was empty. Some friends of mine were out on a golf course somewhere and I was bored out of my mind and wished like hell I’d never agreed to come along … Read more
He asked Emilie to leave the curtains by this window undrawn at night, in order that, when people were asleep, the fish might look at the moon. —Isak Dinesen, “The Dreaming Child” What is the theme? he shouted at me. I’m sorry? I said. Your point! he bellowed. What is your point? Things are slippery? … Read more
So ain’t we all inanimate, George? —Jim Thompson, Pop. 1280 I saw you spinning that greeting card rack at the truck stop. I saw the look in your eyes. You eventually moved to the next rack and bought a cheap pair of sunglasses instead. You’re tempted, aren’t you, always tempted to add some helpless contribution … Read more
My heart of silk is filled with lights, with lost bells, with lilies and bees. I will go very far, farther than those hills, farther than the seas, to beg Christ the Lord to give me back the soul I had when I was a child, ripened with legends, with a feathered cap and a … Read more
Whoever, so as to simplify problems, denies the existence of certain obligations has, in his heart, made a compact with crime. —Simone Weil, The Need For Roots How could I have expected that after a long life I would understand no more than to wake up at night and to repeat: strange, strange, strange, o … Read more
For fifteen years I’d been waiting for the news that this poor, skinny fucker had turned up dead in a place just like this, but here he was, (barely) living proof that it didn’t require much in the way of cooperation and commitment to simply keep on breathing. It had probably been at least seven … Read more
How strange. Do you see how much that poor creature has in its hands? And yet you’ve never known anyone with emptier arms. Look Closely: This Picture Is A Metaphor Is anybody alive out there? Would you care to show yourselves or produce some general murmur to announce your presence? This darkness is oppressive, and … Read more