Dear friends, Once, I took a wheel throwing class. I was there for two hours and in all that time I didn’t make anything. I tried my best to mold the clay on the wheel into something that looked nice or, at the very least, would hold up in the kiln, but I walked…
‘“Tell me a story,” the little monk piped up. “Ma always told me a story before bed.” The old monk gave him the simplest one he knew, which was also the only one he knew.’
“We became a little acquainted over spleen sandwiches and arancini bought from street vendors. We ate on a city bench in the Port of Palermo watching the sun sink below the Mediterranean and speedboats return to the shore. Wasn’t this the life?”
Meditations in an Emergency After Frank O’Hara True: All I wanted was boundless love. True: My dead have been dying in their homes and their homes die with them. How many of us had to die for you to love us? How many people, in boats on…
Dear readers, The second piece that I wrote for the Nass was a piece about the summer I spent in Iran visiting my relatives before my freshman year at Princeton. It struck me even then as a country on the edge of disaster; it has now toppled off of the tightrope. The US-Israeli war…
“Penny had now reached the agent. She meowed. He didn’t look down. She meowed again. He said hi, but nothing more. He must not have children, Jess thought. Then, channeling David, she amended: He’s probably had a long day.”
Math Major in the Midst of a Game of Codenames: Is pie cylindrical?