“The active life has always struck me as the least comfortable of suicides.”
“The snake-filled curls of the sun shake over the sky a golden venom no centuries of night can suck out.”
“I’m tempted to say that Thursday evening was peculiar, perhaps macabre, but the fact is, I have no bill-filling adjectives for Thursday evening.”
“Unclench the cramp in Dudley’s hand, poor woman.”
Three featured writers in this column. Three beauties. Three exceptional writers.
Enjoy the brilliant work of Kate Braverman, Mary Miller, and Faye Rapoport DesPres. And find out more in the interviews. What a gift to spend time with each of them!
“Prom night on a porch swing facing mountains so dead the rocks wouldn’t kiss.”
“At this point, things have become so muddled that everything feels like an inversion. I say one thing, sure I believe it, and he says the opposite and it sounds right, too, more right than the thing of which I was certain.”
“It has been a long, drawn-out thief of a winter, and today it steals my moment with the cows.”
Faye Rapoport DesPres