by Kirsten Clodfelter
It’s the heat that brings him back. Walking barefoot on hot asphalt as I cross the parking lot outside of my apartment to get the mail, he is conjured from someplace buried. I’m reminded by the way the burn against my skin feels good, by the way my tan feet look against the black, by the way the warmth simmers up from the ground and courses through and through, vein to artery, organ to organ, until I’ve been heated from the inside, a sort of melting. We lasted just the summer.
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Tagged as:
New Literature Online,
Short Story
So Many Jokes, So Little Time
New years mean old years passing by. As time passes and calendars flip, success lingers in the mind. Success is a legacy of sorts — a legacy of life and death. To wit: Achilles is a protagonist. A Nobel prize is an award. We aren’t saying this is the reason for writing, au contraire. We know you’re compelled to write. And we thank you for it. In the words of Tom Waits, “yes, there is success without college.” But how much can you trust Mr. Nick? Thomas Benton says graduate school doesn’t mean success, at least as far as PhDs are concerned. On the day after the anniversary of his death, Albert Camus’ accomplishments have stirred up controversy once again. Naturally, Sarkozy is in the thick of it. The Stranger has the secret to small publishing success, and Slate has the winning (and losing) catchphrases of the 00s. Finally, David Levine was pretty successful; you knew him from the Times Book Review. But “nothing beats the drama of a bullhorn.” Ain’t that right, Rick? –- Andrew Geer
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Tagged as:
Literature in the Media,
Tuesday's Literary Briefing
