Sublime

fairy tale expert Michelle Tocher

ephemeral

synecdoche

She existed. She had not existed, and then she had, summoned out of whatever matter her consciousness had been made, and had stuck her small bare foot in his door. It was disastrous. There was a pain in his heart, as if it had acquired a new chamber to contain her, and so all his life he’d be carting her about.

echt

Roles, identities, communities are stripped away.

“Actually I’m in med school at Rutgers.” A neon-pink baby pacifier hung from a cord around his neck. In another year it would be a stethoscope.