I wondered what the Spirit of the Mountain was thinking, and looked up and saw jackpines in the moon, and saw ghosts of old miners, and wondered about it. In the whole eastern dark wall of the Divide this night there was silence and the whisper of the wind, except in the ravine where we roared; and on the other side of the Divide was the great Western Slope, and the big plateau that went to Steamboat Springs, and dropped, and led you to the western Colorado desert and the Utah desert; all in darkness now as we feud and screamed in our mountain nook, mad drunken Americans in the mighty land.
A few of my favorites from This Is How You Lose Her:
That’s the most we can hope for. Nothing thrown, nothing said that we might remember for years. You watch me while you put a brush through your hair. Each strand that breaks is as long as my arm. You don’t want to let go, but don’t want to get hurt either. It’s not a great place to be but what can I tell you?
Continue reading “overdose”
Trying to make sense of the deaths of Kalu and Sanjay, Sunil and Abdul grew closer. Not quite friends-rather, an unameable, not-entirely-willing category of relationship in which two boys felt themselves bound to two boys who were dead. Sunil and Abdul sat together more often than before, but when they spoke it was with the curious formality of people who shared the understanding that much of what was said did not matter, and that much of what mattered could not be said. Continue reading “beautiful forevers”
Abdul ran outside and pushed the two women apart. Taking his mother by the neck, he dragged her back home.
“Don’t you have children?” He said, disgusted. “You’re no better than the One Leg, fighting outside in front of everyone!” Such scenes violated his first principle of Annawadi: don’t call attention to yourself. Continue reading “Behind the Beautiful Forevers”