The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.
I didn't know what I was doing in New York.
The one thing I was good at was winning scholarships and prizes, and that era was coming to an end.
You smile. No, it is not fatal.
A dispassionate white sun shone at the summit of the sky. I wanted to hone myself on it till I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife.
Why do we electrocute men for murdering an individual and then pin a purple heart on them for mass slaughter of someone arbitrarily labeled “enemy?