Sublime

They were just the memories, leaking out.

Sometimes, feeling happy like this, she imagined a baby deer trembling in the woods.

Across the road from where she’s parked, aspens tumble down the basin toward Fish Lake, where five years earlier a Chinese refugee engineer took his three daughters camping on the way to visiting Yellowstone.

Because she saw that he was, in essence, alone. In his vast solitude she would find hers—and with it, the freedom her overbearing parents had always denied her.

And the constant impression as though he is not really there, blending so well into the background that she would occasionally forget he was in the room.

Is there any tribe more

actuarial tables.

Each one volunteers to be eaten, so others might be spread far afield.

me go see