After dinner, Father folds a swan out of his paper napkin. Mother says, “My, how early it grows dark.” First…

—after Wong Kar-wai’s Chungking Express Clare dresses like an ice cream cone. Chocolate lace, vanilla skirts. All of it melting…

1.  The bird flies in through an open window on the first story of the hotel. The bird flies through…

The bluegrass is dry and sick.  “You were the one who survived,” I say. “You were very fortunate.” You are…

“No small sensation has been made by the report of a duel between two ladies. . . . The [disagreement]…

It started out small—a red speck hardly noticed on the Harlem sidewalk. Maybe it drifted down from the heavens. Maybe…

There was a man—there is always a man. There was the crush of gray wave. The cold bite of late…

Years ago, his mother brought home a rabbit. “Make it fat, will you?” she asked him. The boy held the…