Issue 17 / Spring 2019 This piece is a continuation of Jon Epstein’s “Ace in the Hole,” published in the Quarterly’s Issue 16, Winter 2019. A vague whisper in my gut said, “Your soul is being eclipsed by a locust cloud of misdeeds,” but I was...
Issue 17 / Spring 2019 For a long time, I believed my father was the coolest of dads. He sat cross-legged on the living room rug, bongos tucked between his knees, accompanying Morton Gould and His Orchestra on the stereo (the album was Jungle Drums). No, my dad...
Issue 17 / Spring 2019 I called Benjamin from a Paris cafe on Avenue De Clichy. “I locked the keys in the apartment.” He laughed. “Tu rigole?” He spoke in French, I spoke in English, but we understood each other. “No, I’m so sorry, but I’m not joking.”...
Issue 17 / Spring 2019 For years, I was silent. I told no one. Today that changes, partly because of you, moving your eyes across this page, participating in my liberation. Or my re-traumatization. Or elements of each. I won’t pretend it’s just one or the...
The earth was cracked and troubled in Washington, D.C. If only you’d been listening, you would have decoded the garbled whisperings of Auntie Kay’s rapid decline, a sampaguita wilting, just like your bleeding hearts in summer, hot as morning mouth. Instead, you...
