There must be more to stories than you think.
Mask of white makeup and the exotic draperies.
Vida Winter.
The funeral was over, at last I could cry. Except that I couldn't. My tears, kept in too long, had fossilized. They would have to stay in forever now.
Perhaps it didn’t matter, I told myself. Who was there to miss me? No one would suffer from my going. That was a blessing.
People disappear when they die. Their voice, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living memory of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet f...
Cuando escribo, incluso ahora mientras estoy escribiendo esta frase, esta palabra, soy consciente de la presencia de un lector fantasma que se inclina sobre mi hombro y contempla mi pluma, que tergive...
All morning I struggled with the sensation of stray wisps of one world seeping through the cracks of another. Do you know the feeling when you start reading a new book before the membrane of the last...
But pecuniary interest is clearly not in your nature. How quaint. I have written about people who don't care for money, but I never expected to meet one. Therefor I conclude that the difficulty concer...
You may not want to be my son, but I cannot help but be your father.
Thomas Ambrose Proctor!
I’m a storyteller. I am a biographer.
I was not transparent, that she could not see straight through me,
I am human. Like all humans, I do not remember my birth. By the time we wake up to ourselves, we are little children, and our advent is something that happened an eternity ago, at the beginning of tim...
How many times have I gone back to the border of memory and peered into the darkness beyond? But it is not only memories that hover on the border. There are all sorts of phantasmagoria that inhabit th...
Do you mean to tell me, Aurelius, that you are a foundling? Yes. That is the word for what I am. A foundling.
... [They] took it upon themselves to start the laborious process of cranking up life again, after death has stopped us all in its tracks.
There can be no secrets in a house where there are children.
Terminado el entierro, por fin podría llorar.
In this cruel world kindness should always be repaid.