Error message

The page you requested does not exist. For your convenience, a search was performed using the query tumblr E2 80 A6i am trying say i am thankful your grief E2 80 A6.

Page not found

Print Page

Page 46 from Issue 101

Page 46 from Issue 101 TriQuarterly past his kitchen—invariably, dirty dishes in the sink, a teakettle on the stove, Yiddish newspapers on the table, and often roaches on the walls— and into the parlor. There I'd sit in an easy chair: upholstery ...
Print Page

Page 67 from Issue 101

Page 67 from Issue 101 TriQuarterly He turned and strode from the room, closing the door. Benjamin Walter stood staring at the door. He thrust his hands under his armpits to still their trembling. Assaulted by a rush of images: Evelyn in her bed and I. D. ...
Print Page

Page 68 from Issue 101

Page 68 from Issue 101 TriQuarterly Isaac so he could read it to his family on his bar mitzvah, and I said I would be happy to teach him, so we found a corner somewhere under a staircase and 1 was teaching him the section sentence by sentence, he had a sw ...
Print Page

Page 69 from Issue 101

Page 69 from Issue 101 TriQuarterly "He said that?" "I told you, he was a very clever boy." "And who was Abraham?" "1 asked him that, too." "And?" "For a lo ...
Print Page

Page 73 from Issue 101

Page 73 from Issue 101 TriQuarterly six tanks, all that remained of a battalion. A chill morning and a gray- white dawn, with ground mist covering the roots and curling up around the tree trunks. Suddenly the Germans started to pound us with artillery and ...
Print Page

Page 82 from Issue 101

Page 82 from Issue 101 TriQuarterly I. D. Chandal took a wheezing breath. "Hello, Benjamin. You have a nice home." He was unable to respond. The pain in his arms and legs; the hammering of his heart. "A place full of connections ...
Print Page

Page 83 from Issue 101

Page 83 from Issue 101 TriQuarterly and the chant had risen from him, from his own lips. And it was then that he broke through the ramparts into the illumined entry of himself and saw as he had never seen before the exposed roots and tangles of long-burie ...
Print Page

Page 85 from Issue 101

Page 85 from Issue 101 TriQuarterly my hand steering— and impossibly shackled to it, that god whose best trick is to proffer madness as a balm so sweet, who wouldn't pick it up, who wouldn't slather, in it, his own body—Hypnotic—Ah, well ...
Print Page

Page 86 from Issue 101

Page 86 from Issue 101 TriQuarterly A Kind of Meadow —shored by trees at its far ending, as is the way in moral tales: whether trees as trees actually, for their shadow and what inside of it hides, threatens, calls to; or as ever-wavering conscience, cloa ...
Print Page

Page 87 from Issue 101

Page 87 from Issue 101 TriQuarterly or you wanted the usual bird to break cover at that angle at which wings catch entirely what light's left, so that for once the bird isn't miracle at all, but the simplicity of patience and a good hand ...

Pages

Share TriQuarterly