"Driving home, it's all I can do to keep from crying. Time's come, time's gone, time's never returning, I say to myself. What's here in front of me is all I've got, I decide, and as I drive my car through the blowing snow it doesn't seem like much, except for the kindness that I've just exchanged with an old lady, so I concentrate on that." -- from "The Moor" by Russell Banks, about a chance encounter between an 80-year old widow and a 50-year old divorcee, who shared a tryst 30 years earlier
"""McInnes isn't feeling too good today. I just shot him."" -- from "Dundun" by Denis Johnson, about a young man's violent impulses
"It was dark outside, and in the hills around the city the lights in the windows of hundreds of houses glowed like the tiny white bulbs in the branches of a Christmas tree. She thought of her children; they were up in those hills, eating dinner with their own children...She looked at the door, wishing, as she did each time, that there might be a knock, or that it just might swing open, and one of them, just one of them, might be there." -- from "The Birthday Cake" by Daniel Lyons, about an old lady living by her lonesome
No comments:
Post a Comment