Where has this face grown up before? The tintype glassing in the drawer- What, in this afro-ed cousin's-child? This meristem of sallow cheeks, this Thompson twig of fretted lids, this little hollow to the ribcage? If June and Cedar Grove were gone, still this blithe tune all triplets would play on. Cousin and offspring sit…
Joy, who is now twenty-six years old, is waiting to conceive as if by accident a child with the man she loves. This will be irrefutable proof, she reasons, that she loves him and that they must marry. Though she has not believed in God for perhaps thirteen years she reasons too that conceiving a…
In Memoriam: Columbia Military Academy 1905-1978 The itch of blue sky covers me like wool. If I look quickly I'll see the thin shadows running from themselves, the battalions of light blowing away with the years. The bugle boy with one eye winks as if to say, “Forgive.” The flag unfurls atop the brass…
MASTHEAD Directors DeWitt Henry Peter O'Malley Coordinating Editors for This Issue Richard Tillinghast George Garrett Managing Editor Joyce Peseroff CONTRIBUTORS Tom Alderson is a native of east Tennessee. After graduating from Vanderbilt, he served as a paratrooper and as a Russian-speaking Army Intelligence officer. He is now in the School of the Arts at Columbia…
A constable walked up and down on the pavement below the open windows. Inside, the party of eight had finished dinner and sat drinking brandy by the windows over-looking the Park. Someone in the room suggested that they each tell the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to them. The hostess spoke first, while…
Take up your cross and don't cross me. I just xeroxed my hand, veins, bones and all. See, it's blue now, my doctor says, because the sky, by mistake, mirage or otherwise, he says, is the color, arteries, of the sun's eyes. Take up your cross and follow (why me?) to the Flannery Theater. Redshift…
1. Crazy? It’s after midnight, and I kiss my wife’s cheek and quietly slide out of bed: No lights, no alarm. Blue jeans and work boots and a flannel shirt, then out to the backyard. I pick a spot near the toolshed. Crazy, you think? Maybe, maybe not, but listen. This is the hour of…
MASTHEAD Directors DeWitt Henry Peter O'Malley Coordinating Editor for This Issue Raymond Carver Managing Editor Susannah Lee CONTRIBUTORS Max Apple is the author of The Oranging of America (1976), Zip (1978). Free Agents will be published by Harper & Row in May 1984. He teaches at Rice University, Houston. Jamie Diamond lives in Santa Monica,…
Andrew Lytle, who has recently attained his eightieth birthday, is one of the most original and significant figures in Southern letters. To those who know him and his work, such a statement is a truism; but Lytle's writing is not so widely known, nor his place in the region's literary history so secure, that his…
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