But not the worst thing than can happen.
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‘I’m the one who got away, the one you don’t know; I’m the long hairs you find under your pillow, nested in your drain, tangled in your brush.’
But not the worst thing than can happen.
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‘We meet at various points in the great swathes of the past that neither of us were alive to witness.’
Allen Bratton on a daytrip to a castle with his older boyfriend.
‘Listening to three white poets, whom I suspect are academics, talk about the state of poetry.’
Oluwaseun Olayiwola eavesdrops on an older generation.
‘I’d been dubious about his company at first.’
Sarah Moss on watching Shakespeare with her twelve-year-old son.
‘She didn’t trust us because, to her, tenants were like children.’
Kate Zambreno on negotiating with her older landlady.
‘A moment now swallowed in embarrassment, I asked a question only a young person might ask an older one.’
Lynne Tillman on trying to understand what makes a generation.
Melanie Rae Thon was born in 1957 in Kalispell, Montana. She graduated from the universities of Michigan and Boston, and has lived in Arizona and New York, where she taught in the graduate creative writing program at Syracuse University. She has published three novels, Meteors in August (1990), lona Moon (1993), and Sweet Hearts (2001), and two short story collections, Girls in the Grass (1991) and First, Body (1997). In 1996 she was named as one of Granta's Best of Young American Novelists, and she has twice been a recipient of the National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship. She is currently professor of English at the University of Utah.
More about the author →‘You see that the only thing that seems to move in its atmosphere is dust suspended against a fine thread of sunlight, that time itself sleeps lazily on the stupefied clocks.’
‘Is there in fact a jostling for dominance between the art forms, some barely suppressed competitiveness?’
Adam Mars-Jones on music and ceremony.
‘His fear was that we would die in front of him and so he thought of us all the time, which is not what he wanted.’
Fiction by Mazen Maarouf.
‘Into the carrot-coloured bag, alongside my clothes, I put the box with Mama’s urn.’
An excerpt from Oksana Vasyakina’s Wound, translated from the Russian by Elina Alter.
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