November 8, 2023
An excerpt from an unfinished novel
November 8, 2023
An excerpt from an unfinished novel
I will hang out with basically anyone for as long as I can — what else to do with myself?
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He uses his own body like an ATM
At every meeting I raise the amount, first one hundred and fifty, then two hundred, then two hundred and fifty—to erase his apathy, to wrest from him a jolt of interest or at least greed; but after just a few days he gets comfortable with the new state of affairs (which is destroying me economically, and much more quickly than I had foreseen), he mentally registers that he’ll make more from me and he takes it for granted from that moment on.
If they even see his name on the plaque by the door, it’s like, Ciao, Tim, see you in hell!
Smash and kill, piggies!
Through the blinds, the sun began to soften. Santi did not know how the room could be so still now, so quiet, when the scorpion had just been here, lashing like a flame. He held Ma’s hand in the dimming light, eyes on the cracks above the tile, keeping watch.
June 9, 2023
That self, way off in Beijing, was his greatest enemy.
May 26, 2023
The farmhouse, or mansion, or whatever it is, looms in front of her, like a sunken ship raised for salvage
The approach to the farmhouse is not meant for walking, and Bibi feels that she is barely making any progress. The haze blankets her surroundings, giving her approach a dreamlike quality as images come into focus like memories and dissolve like dreams. Slashes of moss-green lawn, the sharp, blue inhalation of what is perhaps a swimming pool. Bibi wonders why swimming pool floors are always painted blue and if this has anything to do with the sky and the ocean. She wonders what it would be like to swim in the ocean and look up at a blue sky.
May 19, 2023
Like around ten Monday morning? I’m the corny guy!
May 10, 2023
Soul and speed aren’t two words you hear together too often. But here . . .
We had a color-coded system for managing the hierarchy of suffering: green was for welfare snafus, lead paint violations, legal procedural errors, fertilizer-related illness, corporate malfeasance and minor environmental damage; yellow was for assault in jail, wrongful conviction, citywide poisoning, retaliatory solitary confinement, grievous and preventable workplace injuries, strikebreaking at the national scale, anti-labor espionage of any kind; red was for police murders, police or military torture, counter-radical operations involving violence or murder, war crimes (many of these last categories pertaining to refugees who had lost their homes or family members to American military campaigns).
Summer has always been problematic for me.
When she’s in a state of panic, my mother bargains with the Lord and imposes fioretti on herself: no eating sweets, no going to the movies, no reading magazines, no listening to Rai Radio 3, for weeks, months, years. These days she can’t go to the hairdresser’s or watch TV. Sometimes the combination is no Radio 3 and no sweets. Or no coffee and no new shoes. She mixes them, matches them — it depends.
Maybe I should paint a child into my own womb. That would be the most thrilling creation of all.
There was an asymmetry, but he couldn’t find it
It was disappointing that these devices didn’t operate on different principles. The sameness suggested that the mystery in them was limited, that the idea behind them was a known form that Jacob hadn’t encountered before only because he didn’t know very much about the world.