For his life seemed a curving line, capricious, moment by moment inviting grace.
I remember it as October days are always remembered, cloudless, maple-flavored, golden and so clean it quivers.
No miracle happens without a witness. Someone to declare, Here’s what I saw. Here’s how it went. Make of it what you will.
SOON, he replied, which makes better sense under the rules of that country than ours. VERY SOON! he added, clasping my hands; then, unable to keep from laughing, he pushed off from the rock like a boy...
I'd have sunk in the car if Marcus Jetty hadn't been doing a little late-season beachcombing. Marcus runs Greenstone Salvage and Tinker, a famous local eyesore of bike frames, tube amps, hula poppers,...
Once in school, going down to lunch from our third-floor classroom, Valentino Vail had leaned over the banister without warning and loosed a cataract of orange vomit. The stairway was the usual open s...
The evidence of my life lay before me, and I was unconvinced.
Oh, his speed was no shock—speed was never Alec’s problem. It was his precision that astonished. Because listen: How many pitchers in any league have a fastball with its own nickname? And what kind of...
We beat the drum slowly and played the fife lowly,and bitterly wept as we bore him along.For we all loved our comrade so brave, young and handsome, we all loved our comrade although he'd done wrong.Th...
Once in my life I knew a grief so hard I could actually hear it inside, scraping at the lining of my stomach, an audible ache, dredging with hooks as rivers are dredged when someone’s been missing too...
This was maybe best of all. I never once expected to be someone's nice surprise.
Was working the cold up
Where do you think you’re going? Dr. Nokes demanded…. What do you have for directions? And Dad… said, I have the substance of things hoped for. I have the anticipation of things unseen
I felt laden. Air itself has weight and mass, and Kansas had the most air of anywhere I'd ever been.
Quixotically.
A veteran bystander to hard moments, I knew they went by quicker when you were unconscious.
One of her recent letters asks, Is it hubris to believe we all live epics? (Perhaps it is, but I suspect she’s not actually counting on me for an answer.)
Even as we sat, prying lids off milk bottles, we could hear the persecuted cooks banging around back in the kitchen, grandmas barking at each other, preparing the daily grotesque.
I remember it as October days are always remembered, cloudless, maple-flavored, the air gold and so clean it quivers.
From my first breath in this world, all I wanted was a good set of lungs and air to fill them with... p 1
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