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A Very Brutal Game

A man with the right scruffed-up beard and breadth of chest swaggered into the S and M dungeon that was my place of business, and twenty minutes and one grand later had my chin — still soft with the downy fluff of teen-girl skin — held steady in one paw while the other one flew at my face so hard and fast that I ceased to exist as the same collection of matter I had been the previous instant.

Sunbeams

To love another human in all of her splendor and imperfect perfection, it is a magnificent task . . . tremendous and foolish and human.

Louise Erdrich, The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse

The Ramshackle Garden Of Affection

Dear Ross: How can you miss on purpose? If I’m late getting back on defense, you’ll bounce the ball off the bottom of the rim and catch the “rebound” for a point. Alone under the basket. Missing.

Dear Noah: Bouncing the ball off the bottom of the rim is, as you say, a poorly missed shot, but also a perfectly missed one, because it results in a point in our game, which means it’s a way for me to stay on the court. If there were a way I could stay on the court without cheating — without those perfectly, beautifully missed shots — believe me, I would do it.

Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is / you must lose things, / feel the future dissolve in a moment

Man And Mouse

I will tell you this: If there is a God, he does not live in a slaughterhouse. That much I know. I hope the God everyone argues over so viciously is not looking out of those dead, glazed pupils, asking us to see him finally.

Joyas Voladoras

Joyas voladoras, flying jewels, the first white explorers in the Americas called them, and the white men had never seen such creatures, for hummingbirds came into the world only in the Americas, nowhere else in the universe.

Sunbeams

Every heart is the other heart. Every soul is the other soul. Every face is the other face. The individual is the one illusion.

Marguerite Young, Miss MacIntosh, My Darling

Interruptions

A detour in Samoa, an encounter in a bar, a snowfall in Colorado

Gritty All Day Long

I thought tryouts went great. I played catcher, just catcher. You may ask, How solid was my receiving with that lingering double vision? Well, I’m happy to report that squatting behind the plate was a miracle cure.