Cover

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. C-C

Title Page, Copyright

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. i-iv

Contents

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. v-vi

Part One

read more

The Woman in the Headlights

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 3-14

In dreams, the headlights make two narrow tunnels through the darkness. The woman appears on the right. The dun-colored grocery bag she carries shields her face, so that all that Chapin sees is a fringe of curly white hair and a white-gloved hand. He lifts his foot to apply the brakes, but something prevents him. He struggles and presses backward...

read more

Bonaparte

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 15-22

The death mask of Napoleon Bonaparte was nearly lost forever, cast into the trashman’s cart around the turn of the century by some tidy bureaucrat. It was retrieved only by chance when someone noticed, amid the papers and rags and broken bottles, that delicate bronze face floating....

read more

Martha’s Eye

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 23-26

Imagine a flock of birds so large it takes two days to pass your vantage point; imagine the whole sky in soft twilight and the rush of wings lifting. Imagine how beautiful they were.
James Fenimore Cooper saw them, and John James Audubon, who remembered the earth shadowed by thousands of birds and called the...

read more

Them

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 27-33

Miriam noticed them standing across the street when she took Caitlin to day care, and they were still there when she came back: a woman, fairly well-dressed, in her late forties, a man, a little older.
“Ignore them,” Brian said.
“What do they want?” ...

read more

Dark Matter

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 34-43

My father died of emphysema and left half a carton of Camels on top of the fridge. My brother, Larry, smoked them all while we waited to bury Pop. By the time my sister, Adele, got in from New York, the air in the flat was a dull blue-gray.
“You have no respect,” Adele said....

read more

Three Weeks in Italy and France

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 44-72

“It’s absolutely the show of the season.” The woman who spoke was holding a vodka gimlet. “Here’s to Vermeer.”
She lifted her glass. The vodka rocked and splashed over the rim. “Now look what I’ve done,” she said, brushing her skirt.
Twenty-one Vermeers at the National Gallery. Rose simply had to...

Part Two

read more

Me and Ray and Bud

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 75-79

The squirrel stuck its head out through a hole high up in the tree. I didn’t think of it as anything but a target. Then it came clear out and hung upside down with its legs spread and its tail twitching, watching us.
I snuggled my cheek against the stock of the .22 and tried to keep both eyes open....

read more

Little Brothers

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 80-90

A heavy summer rain had washed the afternoon. Neon reflected jagged pools of color on the sidewalk, and streaks of lime and vermilion flashed on the windshields of passing cars. Chris and I had taken a seat by the window to watch for Ray....

read more

Necessary Fictions

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 91-211

I dream sometimes of a soft, feminine face, half formed and floating in a thin, uncertain light, and I know that it is Donna and that she is all the dreams that never came true. So frequently does she visit me that Bill can detect my sister in my eyes on those mornings when she seems to hover close. In the convenient way that dreams collapse meaning ...

read more

Almost Home

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 212-224

Chris is propped up in bed, and I am trying to line her eyes in a frosted turquoise color that only brings out the red in them and gives her face a pinched, unhappy expression.
She studies her face in the mirror I hold for her. “Not helping much, is it?” she says....

Back Cover

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. BC-BC