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My son wanted to run around the departure lounge before we got on the plane, and it wasn’t like I could say, Now we must sit in our seats and wait and wait. He was too little for that. So I followed him as he ran around, making sure he didn’t cause trouble. We were on our way to visit his grandparents, who lived so far away we could only get there by plane. Or ca...
There is a particular pleasure in lost objects. We know it in ordinary life: the small shock of finding again what had vanished, the almost absurd intensity of a key, a ring, a photograph, a letter suddenly returned to us. Natalie Lemle’s Artifacts, her debut novel, tur...
Pathetic, really, how late in life he had come into his beauty. It didn’t even have the decency to be the normal kind of beauty—no, his was the beauty of a svelte but surprisingly strong former prisoner of a gulag, rangy and bearded, quiet about the before parts of his life but with bright eyes that brightened more when he listened to you, a...
Sometimes, long term friendships reach a moment of reckoning. I’m not talking about your work friends, or that roommate you swore to keep in touch with but never found the time. I’m talking about your chosen family. The people you thought would never leave you. When they do—or you do—something big shatters inside. Maybe this is because neither of you wants to hear what the ot...
“Rivers are roads which move, and
which carry us whither we desire to go.”
— Pascal
We’d been driving in silence for some time. Nothing was wrong—nothing we could point to. It was early autumn. The larch trees had begun to yellow, and there was new snow in the mountains. We drove with t...