The Art of Fiction No. 127 Issue no. 121 Winter 1991 Imagining Emma Bovary in bed: “[She’d be] rather stunned and frantic, I would think. And I don't say it to be comic. I suspect stunned and frantic, breathless and shockingly cold to the touch.”
Watching Her Die Issue no. 117 Winter 1990 My father’s last aunt moved in with us when I was ten and she was a thousand. Eighty-three, to be truthful, and virgin pure but sadly broke down. She’d lived near us, in her family home, all her life and
A Single Bed, a Backstreet in Venice. Two young men. Issue no. 115 Summer 1990 Fifteen or twenty more dollars a night,They could enact this solemn startOn the Grand Canal, if just in a garret