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Fiction

Precedent

In 1975 I came to love Faye Henry. She was thirty-five years older than I and necessary for my mother, who had no friends at Harvard until she and Faye Henry fell asleep together in the back of “Practicum in Ethnographic Futures Research,” knew they were destined to be friends, and have been ever since.

By Brad Conard July 1982
Fiction

Celluloid Children

Grandma was a person of the Middle Kingdom. The center of civilized life. With one hand she propped up a star-gazer, and with the other she reached down to the bowels of life to offer a hand to the lost and bewildered.

By Ron Jones June 1982
Quotations

Sunbeams

There are said to be creative pauses,
pauses that are as good as death, empty
and dead as death itself.
And in these awful pauses the
evolutionary change takes place.

D.H. Lawrence

May 1982
Fiction

The Funeral

He remembered feeling sick with fear. She had been breathing with difficulty, the air making a rasping sound in her throat. She sounded different — almost impolite. Sounds that used to mean Nana were the floating notes of her harpsichord, the soft rustle of the pages she turned in story books, songs half hummed half whispered, and the small clicking of her knitting needles.

By Timea K. Szell May 1982
Fiction

The Every-Other-Friday-Afternoon Bridge Luncheon

As far as I know, my grandmother’s only regret in life was that she died on a Thursday. “Damnation!” she cursed fate in front of her sister Gert, her four children, and her thirteen grandchildren.

By Brad Conard February 1982
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Kali Comes Home

It is a short-term hurt for a long-term heal; I suddenly understand, not through some feat of logic but through living alone with the only thing I have ever had or will ever have — the pearl of my Isness. I am not alone, I am the beloved, I am understood, and there is nothing I need ever change.

By Elizabeth Rose Campbell November 1981