The first time I was born was in a generically bedded, white-linen stretcher in a California hospital; the second was across a fake wood-topped table from a classmate whose sister had gone to Harvard, a finished softbound copy of a very famous American novel in my lap. The first time I was given all the normal constituents afforded an infant—arms, legs, two slivered excuses for human eyes—and the second, a purpose for which to use them.
|
GKA BlogWe talk about writing, people, the things that inspire us. Anything worth putting the written (and spoken) word to. Archives
June 2017
Categories
All
|