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Christine Japely writes fiction, poetry, and essays. She lives on the edge of New York City.
I’m forty-one, but my nine-year-old son persists in thinking I’m only forty. He’s at that phase when children become obsessed with their parents’ mortality, and for him this takes the guise of frequent (incorrect) recitations of my age, my birth date, and how old I’ll be on my next birthday.
October 1997Deep in the heart of this desert land, rising up out of nowhere amid the sea of sand, is the city: Riyadh! We can drive out of town a bit and see camels wandering about; their owners let them loose to wander for eleven months at a time!
August 1996Has something we published moved you? Fired you up? Did we miss the mark? We’d love to hear about it.
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