Later the squat white cylinders with their delicate indentations would be revealed as a species of lantern. But when Krzysztof Wojciechowicz first glimpsed them, dotted among the azaleas and rhododendrons and magnolias surrounding Constance Humboldt’s kidney-shaped swimming pool, he saw them as dolls. The indentations cut the frosted tubes like waists, a third of the…
The Buffalo Vision Late on the third night of the Sun Dance, most of the hundred Crow people within the Big Lodge had fallen asleep. The fire was low, the singers’ voices hoarse over the drumbeat. Only John Sees the Hill still danced in place, his back to the circular wall of upright aspen boughs….
At night the wind sometimes woke him as it sliced across the tin roof of the cabin, and he would open his eyes in darkness to find his hands gripping the bedframe. Thirty-five knots, forty knots-it was impossible not to gauge the speed of the gusts in his mind. He felt, too, the chastened shudder…
from In the Houses of the Good People When I was a girl I had a place in the stable I’d go to be alone. I cleaned it of all the spider webs and laid down a layer of fresh straw. When Mother began her travail with Elizabeth, I went there to get away…
note: Italicized sections of the text are quotations from Johann Goethe, Rosa Luxemburg, Johnny Cash, Alfred Döblin, Antonio Gramsci, Vladimir Lenin, Benito Mussolini, Adolf Hitler, Karl Koch, and the Bible. It never happened. It could not have happened. It could not have happened that at a crowded congress of the Second International held in…
Penn Station, March 1991 I’ve been homeless down here so long I didn’t give up the worship of Jesus Now I got my own room but it’s not in my apartment And God is a good god And children if you’re on that crack don’t get addicted Because me I waited too long…
Peter had always been more than thoughtful in not pressing her about her past, and Beatrice was sure it was a reason for her choice of him. Most men, coming of age in a time that extolled openness and disclosure, would have thought themselves remiss in questioning her so little. Perhaps because he was a…
S andalwood, Jaime whispers to himself, recalling the vendor who had sold Tony and him the three little vials of this scented oil and the five foil packets of incense. He had a makeshift stall outside the bus terminal in Dudley Square. Wearing an embroidered red and black tarboosh and an immaculately white T-shirt, on…
from The Farewell Symphony Tomorrow is Toussaint in Paris, All Saint’s Day, and I suppose I’ll visit Brice’s little white marble plaque in the columbarium at Père Lachaise. Why do I avoid it for months on end? I keep thinking of a couple of Americans we met during the year before Brice died. One…
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