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FoodThere was no sense in brushing off or any other civilized thing.
For my vacation last summer, I visited the Bateer family in Xiwuqi.
We are in his car. “Bell, I’m starving. Want to go for a burger or pizza?” I panic. Pizza. 285 calories per slice. Burgers. Harder to estimate.
I want to remember us this way—sun streaming through the window.
I grabbed him by the face and told him life only comes to a person once.
I needed a paycheck a lot more than I needed to be kissed.
This is the day when the saints all go silently to church in France.
When you are sixteen and sixty-five pounds, you are all shadows.
Underestimate the beauty in the world and spill coffee down your shirt.
she was sixteen, and swimming. she was seventy-one, and soft.
Why kill something so mild-mannered, entertaining, and sociable?
My advice is to take advice with a grain of salt.
We loaded the packs and started down, into the bluing of dusk.
When we’re all together like this it feels like hope is a possibility.
On her wedding day Ellen accidently locked herself inside the pantry.
I fell asleep wondering to whom the tree might have been writing.
No one tells you what it sounds like out in the streets when bullets clang.
Papa’s link to that pond was a matter of blood. And the delicious carp.
He’s become insufferable since that MacArthur fellowship.
Peter Vey
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