‘I would have dreams that woke me in the middle of the night, my heart shaking inside my body.’
The headline on page three read: foster boy turns killer, kills self, and I would have missed it if I hadn’t seen the photo. Even in that grainy texture there was no mistaking the eyes, but still I scanned the page for a name. Stephen Schaeffer, the article said. It was him. I pulled out my cellph…
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‘We meet at various points in the great swathes of the past that neither of us were alive to witness.’
Allen Bratton on a daytrip to a castle with his older boyfriend.
‘Listening to three white poets, whom I suspect are academics, talk about the state of poetry.’
Oluwaseun Olayiwola eavesdrops on an older generation.
‘I’d been dubious about his company at first.’
Sarah Moss on watching Shakespeare with her twelve-year-old son.
‘She didn’t trust us because, to her, tenants were like children.’
Kate Zambreno on negotiating with her older landlady.
‘A moment now swallowed in embarrassment, I asked a question only a young person might ask an older one.’
Lynne Tillman on trying to understand what makes a generation.
