Boyhood
That magic zone of love without possession, of work as game and game as life itself, the heart unprotected, the imagination unbound, was an incipiency, a hint or sketch of what another kind of human life might be.
family
Hawkeye
A suitable public mien, for a man of any age, consists of purpose and mild distraction. What my father taught us as a question of prudence on the mean streets of New York, is also good manners.
Widdershins
The gantry above the vehicle ramp advertises the short route to New Jersey. A dubious claim—leaving aside the question of why one would want to go to New Jersey—but it stirs a memory of an epic bike ride.
Edith
A familiar in disguise? A twin? Zygote-mate unseparated at conception? I prefer to think Edith is anima, the feminine aspect of the soul, or perhaps better yet guardian angel—a figure that recurs in all my writing.
It is not true
The old Danish Christmas carol, repeated endlessly on Christmas Eve, dancing round the tree—or, in a big house, snaking in and out the parlour doors—asks if Christmas will last till Easter.
Three Tales
I’ve reached an age when anything accomplished invites the pleasingly macabre thought that it might be the last, and it is with something of this feeling I publish my new book.