"On what turned out to be the last day, a very cold morning in February, she stepped out onto the roof to drink the last of her cocoa. At first she sipped, then she took one final swallow, and in the time it took her to raise the cup to her lips and lower it, the pigeon had taken a step and dropped from the ledge. He caught an upwind that took him nearly as high as the tops of the empty K Street houses. He flew farther into Northeast, into the colors and sounds of the city’s morning. She did nothing, aside from following him, with her eyes, with her heart, as far as she could."
-Edward P. Jones, "The Girl Who Raised Pigeons"
Painting: Anton van Dalen, Pigeon Coop At Sunset, 1985
“What we see before us is just one tiny part of the world. We get in the habit of thinking, this is the world, but that’s not true at all. The real world is a much darker and deeper place than this, and much of it is occupied by jellyfish and things.”
―Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
In the Absence of Sparrows
Beautiful and heartbreaking tribute to James Foley
In the absence of sparrows: our house burns blue with news.
You can now purchase my story "Julia" as a Kindle single! (If you’re so inclined.)
I gotta get me one of these computer reading machines.