They hurt me, these small, brutal kindnesses.

“Tonight, the Sisters of Saint Joseph and I are going to The Slaughterhouse Bar.…”

“Bob Dylan never has his own cigarettes. I thought this was charming at first.”

“He had always listened to the music of a more sensitive man. She had let severa…”

“We stand at the doors and look out over the yard. Hundreds of deer gaze back at…”