When I was young, seven or eight, one of my father’s German short-haired pointers had puppies. These were marvelous things, trembly and small as guinea pigs and swimming all over each other so they were hard to count. Their eyes, still blind, were like little cuts. After a few days my father decid…
Last Day on Earth
Protected: First Sentence: Javier Zamora
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‘In Hollin Hills, we believed our flatware could change the world.’ Jennifer Kabat on the intersection of modernist architecture and espionage.