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us very little about his childhood in Budapest. Like many Jewish immigrants from central Europe, he ...
dawdled, they could leave together. Last time in, he was reading a book about the Burgess Shale, a slab ...
several lengths of string about the branches, creating signs, in the shape of lozenges, squares, ...
thinks Li Wen. Her neighbor in Block Nine told her about the elderly ladies in America, the ones ... Her throat tightens. A boy about her brother’s age. Di-di! She is sure. No, she cannot be sure. He ... tightly her knuckles hurt, and when students watched terrifying films about the concentration camps, she ...
hair fractures with silverware? Or what about how you will spend most of Your Special Day feeling ... problem.” “You lost me.” “Your face,” the ring-bearer points. “You’re thinking about every moment except ... you.” “All grooms look this way on their special day.” “Like they know they’re about to be set on fire ...
of a mirror, he knots it round his neck, wondering about Jessie Bell. Walking out of the precinct, he instructs ... calling her since Julian’s estate was settled the evening before, leaving voicemails about the apartment, ... on the bench, Jessie thinks about that morning: she visited the boy’s family in Eminönü. They lived in a walkup, ...
There are, he has heard—and in hearing, has wondered about his mother who he lost sight of, ages ago, ... a piece of repeated routine. But there was something uncertain about it, like a question mark hung ... even thought about rising. His room was darker than he’d ever seen it, with only the last glimpse ...
about its less than ethical practices. He reported the payment as fraud to his bank. Then he donated ... them what they want? he thought. It was not about them any longer. If they wanted him to crack, then he ... to pause, to savor our meals, to think about who we are in the world. He knew himself better than he had ...
Reginald Gibbons Thursday, April 25, 2013 Blog (Pieter Breugel’s   Triumph of Death) I’ll conclude my account of the second week—though it doesn’t cover everything we talked about in classes—with this post on the other poems we discussed: Ezra Pound’s “In a Station of the Metro” and “The Return,” ...
the water, this time entered the creek’s flow a moment. When she withdrew the hand, something about her had ...

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