It should not be a surprise, given the name of this blog, that Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick is one of my favorite books. I have never understood why most people find it a difficult read. 2,052 more words
Before We Begin
I’ve been meaning to write something new for this site for the last few days. Alas, I have failed.
So, you get this instead. 2,641 more words
My earliest memory is of a girl smaller than I was dying in my mother’s arms. Or at least this must’ve been my earliest memory, because my mother’s arms, which held the dying girl — the daughter of her friend — and my mother’s hands, which prepared the little girl for burial, always brought me the comfort and the maternal smell I associated with death. 39 more words