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Peter Handke
Absence
Cauldio Magris
Music Lessons
Harold Brodkey
Spring 1989
Ruth Zernova
Orna the Lab Technician
Lisa Poneck
Better Homes
The Scroll of Esther
Bruce Robinson
Hitting to Right
Ezra Zonana
The Smell of My Fingers
Mitchell Levenberg
Soup
Deborah Joy Corey
A Private Place to Be
Lia Smith
At Birth
Matthew Sharpe
The Diplomat
Siri Hustvedt
Houdini
Urs Widmer
Portrait of My Parents as a Young Couple
Mark Jay Mirsky
A Mother's Ark
He takes me down through the declivity in the hills, down through the canyon, down so fast I can see my cheeks in the review mirror of his motorcycle, I can see my cheeks flap back in the wind. At ninety-five miles per hour the skin on my face is stretched and pulling behind me, pulling behind the bones and cartilage of me. I lean forward and lay my cheek against his back.
I can't speak.
Once I fell asleep sitting behind him, but we were going maybe only eighty miles per hour then.
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