The neighbor was at it again. At 4:00 a.m. he switched on his living room light. According to my mother, even from across the street that light cast an intrusive yellow glow into her bedroom. Only the full moon on a clear night, angled above her like the lamp over a dentist’s chair, would have …
Werner had feared his life wouldn’t turn out to be like literature. He believed he had lived an unremarkable life, and feared, as he entered adulthood, that he was destined for the routine and mundane, the very kind of ordinary that, try as one might, couldn’t be made fantastic by the written word. But when …
Cruso has a key to her apartment—for emergencies—and he begins to use it. He waits until after nine in the morning, when he is sure that she and the kids are gone for the day, and then he walks down the long tiled hallway and turns the key, listening for the quiet retraction of the …