Monthly Archives: August 2017

At Any Moment

Few little things give me as disproportionate an amount of pleasure as finding notes–commentary, poetry, or fiction–that I have left in my books and have since forgotten, only to be discovered by a future self. Came across this one in … Continue reading

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Every Semester

As I nervously prepare for another first day of teaching, I am reminded of Michel Houellebecq’s spiritually-exhausted, andropausal, soon-to-be-Muslim convert, Francois, in Submission.¬†As a Huysmans’s scholar who cares only for his research (and online porn and TV dinners), he admits, … Continue reading

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Bed Turned Tomb

The rain came in sudden great swathes across the treetops and hit the windows and the roof; like spring rain, out of season. The bedroom air seemed full of unspoken words, unformulated guilts, a vicious silence, like the moments before … Continue reading

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Always a Pace or Two Ahead of Us

“Perhaps, I thought, while her words still hung in the air between us like a wisp of tobacco smoke–a thought to fade and vanish like smoke without a trace–perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols; a hill of … Continue reading

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