As I wrote about last year when I read Ethan Frome, descriptions of meals in books are one of the things that really catch my attention when I'm reading. I like to imagine how all the elements of the meal work together. I read this description recently in Margaret Drabble's The…
Nothing changes, maybe even me. I wrap my scarf around my neck three times and nestle in. I drive my father's car in the dark, in the rain, winding my way around random streets, wandering until I run out of coffee. Or I'm an early morning passenger with a bagel in my hand,…
Days that feel like older days. Lazy suburban summer drives, windows open, listening to a short story read on the radio. Sitting by the lake for an interminable length of time. Browsing at the bookstore I used to spend so much time in, tripping over the carpet. While my mother looks at…
