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Orphan Girl

November 7, 2017
The sky is coated with scurf the color of tin. Bands of haze hang at the fringe of the valley giving the impression that the mountains have receded into memory. The air is thick and full of grit. A mouthful chokes me. A good storm would clear it but the days are still and quiet...

Catch and Release

November 2, 2017
“It’s a bad catch,” you say. You are ten, thin and tall, all angles and sharp bones. The lure you’ve been using has three hooks, and one is caught in the bass’ gills. You hold the fish in your hands, then sit on your haunches. You know you have only a minute or so before...

Half-Life

November 2, 2017
It was Yoko Ono who taught me the sound of one hand clapping. It happened in San Francisco, on a hot August day in 2002. My girlfriend and I were in town to visit a friend of hers, a former Microsoft employee who’d retired a millionaire and now spent her days involved in projects. That...

The Belly of Desire

October 17, 2017
1. Belly: The protruding abdomen of a pregnant woman When I was five, I played the Pregnancy Game with the Hruby sisters, Jennifer and Stephanie. We used my Cabbage Patch Kid, Tallulah, a coveted Christmas present in 1986, but one that turned out to be a disappointment because she was so ugly. Tallulah’s hair—short loops...

Gossip: An Oral History

October 17, 2017
Cybill Shepherd: “From the start, I let it be known that I wanted an ensemble cast, that everybody’s part should be great. I meant me too.” Yulia Ustinova: “The problem of the early Sibyl’s historicity is insoluble.” Cybill Shepherd: “Looking up into the vaulted ceiling . . . I was overwhelmed by the power of...

Death By Fire

July 21, 2017
When fire started up out of the canyon, they were already dead. Still, for minutes, they kept cutting fireline, Forest Service hotshots and smokejumpers working a halfass fire in the scrub oak and piñon country of north-central Colorado. They cut as though there were a future. But when fire boiled out of the canyon up...

Seizures

July 21, 2017
My dog, a little gray schnauzer, was sleeping in the corner of my room the day he had a seizure. He was stretched out on his bed, hind legs jerking spasmodically. Even before foam began to bubble from his mouth, I knew he was not running in his sleep, dreaming of rabbits or pursuers. I...