The Four Deaths of James Edward

I. James Edward the Third entered the world like a limp bruise—purple against the sterile room—in a silence that hurt my ears from straining, stretching and stretching, taking with it his brain cells and future. Some of you will know what I mean. I’m sorry for that. The only thing Read more

Everything Bathed in Gold

It’s a Tuesday evening, and I’ve just returned from therapy. I pour a glass of wine before gathering the ingredients for dinner: six shallots, garlic, half a can of tomato paste, anchovies, and pasta. Outside, my neighbor who lives in the building behind mine pulls into the shared parking lot. Read more