“Naturally, we feared that some form of retribution would be waiting for us, but to our relief we didn’t see Daddy Perry again until suppertime.”
We couldn’t advertise our grief, lest, years from now, friends and family would watch us sideways, waiting for an explosion from the bomb that never went off.
“It was enough that I was there, mutely listening as he recited his sorrowful dreams, or spooled out what he called his misgivings, his guilts, his remorse.”
by Cynthia Ozick | Tuesday, September 03, 2019
Two boys pay a visit to their father
Two women, one reporter, and an opera that shall not be named
How to lose your drums and get them back
by Ralph Lombreglia | Tuesday, September 04, 2018