What narrative or allegory arises in this collage when a snake flies through the air carrying a staircase?
I’d never witness her body’s natural aging process—her bones becoming brittle, her hair turning white.
Even as I tamp down my dread, I feel a frisson of secret pleasure: I’m storing the details of this house in my mind.
Here’s what I see each semester when I look out at the crop of new faces: terror.
With every kiss, the 15-, 21-, 28-year-old self was probably furious with me—each in his own way—for selling out.
