‘I brushed my hair flat and put on my embroidered dressing gown so that I felt clean and composed. This is what human beings do with their lives, I thought.’
Nathan was waiting with his hands in his pockets beside the silver Christmas tree in the arrivals lounge at Dublin airport. The new terminal was bright and polished, with a lot of escalators. I had just brushed my teeth in the airport bathroom. My suitcase was ugly and I was trying to carry it with …
Nothing to see here!
What made him do what he did? Could it have all been for an ice cream bar, really? Will any of us ever know?
What made him do what he did? Could it have all been for an ice cream bar, really? Will any of us ever know?
What made him do what he did? Could it have all been for an ice cream bar, really? Will any of us ever know?
What made him do what he did? Could it have all been for an ice cream bar, really? Will any of us ever know? What made him do what he did? Could it have all been for an ice cream bar, really? Will any of us ever know?
‘What I’m trying to do is to find ways of expressing myself which try to subvert those forms in order to make the speech act, or the writing act, transgressive in a way.’
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
‘In Hollin Hills, we believed our flatware could change the world.’ Jennifer Kabat on the intersection of modernist architecture and espionage.
‘The first notes I take are about a man who was born, grew up, worked, was married, had a daughter, grew old, and died in the same village.’
