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They are lovers. He told me last night at 3 a.m., after we had taken several long walks, talking and coming to no resolution. After weeks of fighting, absolutely at cross-purposes, as though we were speaking entirely different languages.
By Catherine MadsenJune 1989Twenty-seven disembodied entities, Mars on a dark night, the Night Stalker
By Our ReadersMay 1989My heart bristled a little around the edges at the mention of Anna, but it was more like the wings of a bird, hit and dead on the highway, whose feathers flutter a moment from the movement of a passing Chevy.
By Natalie GoldbergNovember 1988Just as it is difficult to picture an angel without wings, it is difficult to picture a human with wings. But more than I once considered, it seems that, under certain circumstances, the two are readily interchangeable, just as some solids will transform directly into gases.
By David KoteenDecember 1987I sense that my preacher friend isn’t playing with a full deck. I suspect he views certain people as angels and remembers them as colors.
By John CiminelloNovember 1987I wait for my father at the airport, as usual. He is almost two hours late, according to his itinerary No. 48. I should be used to this routine by now.
By Yvonne Trostli KirkpatrickMay 1987November 1986The family is a good institution because it is uncongenial. The men and women who, for good reasons and bad, revolt against the family, are, for good reasons and bad, revolting against mankind. Aunt Elizabeth is unreasonable, like mankind. Papa is excitable, like mankind. Our younger brother is mischievous, like mankind. Grandpapa is stupid, like the world; he is old, like the world.
G.K. Chesterton
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