PHOTOGRAPH BY PETER VAN AGTMAEL / MAGNUM FOR THE NEW YORKER
Tag: new yorker
PHOTOGRAPH BY PETER VAN AGTMAEL / MAGNUM FOR THE NEW YORKER
Lidor looks at me like I’m some kind of a superhero. There’s nothing greater than to have your kid look at you that way. It’s better than a vacation in Thailand. Better than a blow job. Better than punching someone who has it coming.
Lidor looks at me like I’m some kind of a superhero. There’s nothing greater than to have your kid look at you that way. It’s better than a vacation in Thailand. Better than a blow job. Better than punching someone who has it coming.
There was a priest, and a punto band, and the beach, and the stars, and the northern wind, and everything about that night was emblematic of how they hoped to shape the years. Now they would divorce.
There was a priest, and a punto band, and the beach, and the stars, and the northern wind, and everything about that night was emblematic of how they hoped to shape the years. Now they would divorce.
He wished it were May. He’d always enjoyed writing about May, with its confidence of daylight, the inviting lassitude of the sea… . But it was not May. It was twelve days before Christmas, and the daylight looked no more certain of what it was doing than he was.
He wished it were May. He’d always enjoyed writing about May, with its confidence of daylight, the inviting lassitude of the sea… . But it was not May. It was twelve days before Christmas, and the daylight looked no more certain of what it was doing than he was.
He looks again at his useless hand, the now fernlike pattern. It seems to follow his veins, mark tiny capillaries, a leaf skeleton disappearing under the tide line of ash into the sleeve of his top.
He looks again at his useless hand, the now fernlike pattern. It seems to follow his veins, mark tiny capillaries, a leaf skeleton disappearing under the tide line of ash into the sleeve of his top.