Monthly Archives: April 2014

Sunday Six

Six sentences for Sunday, April 27:

“Have you ever seen a man drown?” he asked. “Close up, I mean.”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“Once when I first started out, I was in a shaft that collapsed—started taking on water. I managed to get free, but the man I was working with was pinned. The water was coming in and I tried to pull him free, but there was nothing I could do. And the look on his face as the water rose over his head—I’ll never forget it.”

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Sunday Six

Six sentences (only slightly late) for Sunday, April 20th:

The air smells of bleach, one of her earliest memories. Under the vaulted skylights, the spectators’ seats. Here the chlorine permeates even into the carpet, the wooden benches sweet with damp. How many meets must her parents have watched from this vantage point, how many hours spent waiting to see her? Now, standing in their place in the dark, she imagines what it must have looked like to them: her body a small shape indistinguishable from all the other bodies, the water white foam around her. It could have been anyone they were cheering for.

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Reading Recommendation: “The Cross Word,” Mary Morris

Screen Shot 2014-04-15 at 9.40.53 PMToday I read (played?) Mary Morris’ short story “The Cross Word,” which is told by way of a crossword puzzle. It’s an interesting experience–a challenging way to engage narrative, and an apt metaphor for the experience of reading.

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Sunday Six

Six sentences for Sunday, April 13:

The Reyes girls were truly a sight to behold, each more beautiful than the next. They shared their father’s tall, spare frame, but that was where the resemblance ended. Where he was sand and silver, they were all shadow and light, skin like the peeled back flesh of birches, hair like wild dark silk. Vera, the eldest, was imperious and sure, a supple switch about to strike. The middle daughter, Violet, had the limber attitude of a swimmer, slow and languid as if she were suspended underwater. The youngest, Vinette, was the dancer, graceful in a way her sisters only hinted at, her hands never at rest.

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Sunday Six

In lieu of six new sentences this week, I thought I’d share some of my six favorite typos from my thesis revisions:

  • making a home for that brief in our hearts
  • carved from previous jade
  • white gossamer dressing down
  • She keeps nicely behind class
  • The maid sits down the tray
  • what an elegant profile, what perfectly formed ears, shat a shapely chin

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