It’s like a jungle in the clouds and there’s this fog — like rain, except it’s not raining. Everything is wet and tangled, and the angles of vision are slightly distorted. Walking point, I can hear sounds that come from… Continue Reading
“Leo, take a break for God’s sake. You’ve been writing since dawn and it’s almost ten o’clock at night now. Please eat something and come to bed.” “Sophia, I know you mean well but don’t distract me now. I have… Continue Reading
The party was on that patio, but I wasn’t. Long-legged women in gauzy beachwear, sure-footed men in Bermuda shorts, these mothers and fathers had hauled their kids to the Cape for summer but now wanted nothing to do with us.… Continue Reading
Five. The harness digs into his shoulder. Mission control keeps a stream of chatter in his ear, but Gagarin can hardly hear them over his pounding heart. The rocket shudders around him. Four. Humanity has always been entranced by the… Continue Reading
He had been cut this bad once before. In the Central Highlands, a punji stick had jabbed him below the knee. It had gone in less than an inch, but the feces that the VC had smeared on it had… Continue Reading
Protesters waved placards outside the museum, where civilization had memorialized ancient barbarism. Others might march against climate change or corrupt politicians; these, disgusted by the indignities inflicted for so long on the indigenous, demanded that the aborigine’s bones should not… Continue Reading
Sometimes there’s a moment so quiet right after the exhaled breath when there is no breath, and an interval between two lives is suddenly bridged. My name is William, Wendell or Wallace. I’m not sure which. At this moment, it… Continue Reading
“Papa’s walking around the garden with his eyes closed again.” Elyse thanks Marianne and hurries outside. “Lazare! You must keep your eyes open. It’s the only way your seeing will get better.” “There’s so much to look at. Sometimes I… Continue Reading
…and it should have been Kokura, but it was overcast, though it was cloudy here, too, but not cloudy enough, so by the time I returned home from business, it was all gone, everything, and like so many others, I… Continue Reading
The man who was shot in the head goes to church on Sunday mornings. His name is George Marcovici, but to his friends and family, he is the captain. George is a neighborhood legend in Antim, Bucharest, with his soft… Continue Reading