Seen & Heard at FFW
The rustle of everyone sitting up straighter and reaching for a pen when an author says something profound. Those pens scratching on paper in unison.
The rustle of everyone sitting up straighter and reaching for a pen when an author says something profound. Those pens scratching on paper in unison.
I also remembered what this little family was like—this community of faithful writers. It’s a beautiful community, and it’s one to which I belong.
Tyson’s narration meanders back and forth from the local to the cosmic, and spends not a small amount of time biographing members of the scientific pantheon.
Finally, a girl asked me to dance. I was always taught to ‘respect women,’ so we danced with our arms outstretched, creating a mini Arc de Triomphe on the outskirts of the floor.
I now understand this to be a painless and defensive maneuver, but at the time I was utterly traumatized. The tail continued to wiggle and squirm in the cage for several minutes.
And then, finally, it came: a few days above freezing, and then a glorious morning when I wake slowly from a deep, sound sleep to a dull, grey morning.
Standing at the altar, holding hands, we repeated the ancient formula, and then we knelt, we opened our mouths to receive the host and took the chalice to our lips.
I could have lectured Laurent on the dangers of objectification, complete with a bibliography and citations.I could have bared my carefully-honed feminist fangs.
I’m the son of a CPA, an accountant for the people, a number cruncher for democracy. I grew up knowing April 15 as a national holiday.