Sting-Rays and Summer Nights - 1974
Elmira, 1974 We shouldn’t have been that far from home. That’s what I understand now. But that summer the air was thick and bright, and Mom said, “Just around town,” which in Lincoln Street language meant anywhere the road kept going.
3:13 a.m.
At 3:13 a.m. the night sharpens. Even the dark feels awake. The house holds its breath.
On Almost Beginning
One sits and reads, and the hours pass, and this passing seems not loss but a kind of staying. - adapted from Virginia Woolf’s notebooks The library was not a building but a condition sustained by attention.
