She thinks: They just say words, and what are words but sounds these men shape out of breath, weightless vapors they send into the air of the kitchen to dissipate and die.
She turns her face toward his, and though she cannot see him, he feels he cannot bear her gaze. Won’t you come with me?
The weather in this place: you can feel it between your fingers.
The way she tucks her ankles up against her bottom. The way her fingers flutter through the space around her. Each a thing he hopes never to forget.
When Werner wakes, it’s well past dawn. His head aches and his eyeballs feel heavy. Frederick is already dressed, wearing trousers, an ironed shirt, and a necktie, kneeling against the window with his...
The war drops its question mark. Memos are distributed. The collections must be protected. A small cadre of couriers has begun moving things to country estates. Locks and keys are in greater demand th...
What the war did to dreamers
Smoke: her great-uncle says it is a suspension of particles, billions of drifting carbon molecules. Bits of living rooms, cafes, trees. People.
Snowy, milky, chalky. A color that is the absence of color. Every morning he ties his shoes, packs newspaper inside his coat as insulation against the cold, and begins interrogating the world.
De entre todas las cosas que he visto en la vida, creo que el mar es mi favorita.A veces me descubro mirándolo y me olvido completamente de mis obligaciones. Es lo bastante grande como para contener e...
They go down the ladder and clamber out through the wardrobe. No soldiers wait in the hall with guns drawn. Nothing seems different at all. A line comes back to Marie-Laure from Jules Verne: Science,...
The mind craves ease; it encourages the senses to recognize symbols, to gloss. It makes maps of our kitchen drawers and neighborhood streets; it fashions a sort of algebra out of life. And this is use...
That’s the Staatsoper, says Neumann Two one night. The facade of a grand building rises gracefully, pilastered and crenelated. Stately wings soar on either side, somehow both heavy and light. It strik...
Timber splinters, as though the rubble teeters on some final fulcrum. As though a single dragonfly could alight on it and trigger an avalanche that will bury them for good. Werner
The sea is only a receptacle for all the prodigious, supernatural things that exist inside it. It is only movement and love; it is the living infinite.
The sea is everything. It covers seven tenths of the globe... The sea is only a receptacle for all the prodigious, supernatural things that exist inside it. It is only movement and love; it is the liv...
We are Malouins first, say the people of Saint-Malo.
Travel definitely affects me as a writer.
Tre ragazzi passano ridendo e Max li guarda con intensità. Su un muro butterato e chiazzato di licheni è fissata una piccola lapide di pietra. <>Ici a été tuè Buy Gaston Marcel agé de 18 ans, mort pou...
Todo dia, ela tira um tempo para se perder nos reinos da memória...
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