Holland spent Wednesday building a privacy fence for a tiresome academic couple in Barton Hills. Pressure-treated posts, horizontal cedar boards, stained and sealed, it was his third that week.
Soon the first cars will arrive for Mass. I can picture them floating down the streets of our city, this suburb of Los Angeles populated by gladsome old people and families with small children and a murky middle swath to which my husband...
What in the world does a lawn chair on roller skates propelled across a cornfield by a fire extinguisher have to do with the art of fiction? The question arguably answers itself a little more than halfway through—I didn’t actually see the...
A camera mutes or sharpens various aspects of self, but it seems that the bigger behavioral nudge was not the time spent in front of the camera but rather the experience of watching their life flipped back upon them. Is there such a thing...
As a child I often woke up next to her in her bed, somehow teleported there during the night. I’d lie very still and watch car-light shadows rove from wall to ceiling to wall. She snored with grinding constancy, as if some terrible snarl...
