“Gross, Julie, what are we getting here—pull-on pants? A washer/dryer? It’s not going to fit into the bag.” “Open the other one, it’s emptier.” “You know I’m not supposed to shoplift anymore.” “Don’t take that, idiot! It has ...
Everything hidden under cover of night becomes abundantly clear, luminescent. Hiding in the dunes, she is a foot soldier, a spy, a lusty intruder. The sand caves in around her, the silky skin of another planet. What was so familiar by day is inside out, an X ray etched in memory. The sands of Mai...
It is 2005, and I am still on the same page, I am still wondering exactly what happened.“Moribund on the sofa”—what did that mean? Half dead, already dead, well on the way to being dead? Was she in a coma? Did she know someone had come for her? Did she hope to be saved? How does someone live to b...