The evening was the same as any other. I came out and stood on the step. The suburb was closed in the weather of an early spring and the shallow tips of washed-out yellows of narcissi resisted dusk. And crocuses and snowdrops.…
4 tygodnie temu
A neighbourhood. At dusk. Things are getting ready to happen out of sight. Stars and moths. And rinds slanting around fruit. But not yet. One tree is black. One window is yellow as butter. A woman leans down to catch a child who has run into her arms this moment.…
4 tygodnie temu
In the worst hour of the worst season of the worst year of a whole people a man set out from the workhouse with his wife. He was walking — they were both walking — north.…
4 tygodnie temu
Flesh is heretic. My body is a witch. I am burning it. Yes I am torching her curves and paps and wiles. They scorch in my self denials. How she meshed my head in the half-truths of her fevers till I renounced milk and honey and the taste of lunch.…
4 tygodnie temu
How on earth did it happen, I used to wonder that a whole city—arches, pillars, colonnades, not to mention vehicles and animals—had all one fine day gone under? I mean, I said to myself, the world was small then. Surely a great city must have been missed? I miss our old city—…
4 tygodnie temu
The lovers in an Irish story never had good fortune. They fled the king’s anger. They lay on the forest floor. They kissed at the edge of death. Did you know our suburb was a forest? Our roof was a home for thrushes. Our front door was a wild shadow of spruce.…
4 tygodnie temu