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I shall deceive you, and for that you will be grateful to me. I shall make you a solemn promise with no intention of keeping it, and that will satisfy you, or at any rate you will pretend that it does, with appropriate masterly skill; whereas, to fools who would want to excommunicate us both, you w…

The art of writing Introductions has long demanded proper recognition. I too have long felt a pressing need to rescue this form of writing from the silence of forty centuries—from its bondage to the works to which its creations have been chained. When, if not in this age of ecumenicalism—that is to…

Mostly Elizabeth felt grateful for their life. Jobless, she had managed the retrofitting and renovation of their Portland house, bringing all her idle scrolling on TikTok and in Meta rooms to bear on the selection of tiles and wallpapers along aesthetic lines, but applying her fluency to securing t…

Charlie murmured and then looked vacant. He rustled in the bed, suddenly no longer there. She could feel the pull of his phone, his clothes, his laptop, his life in the small bag on the table by the TV. She felt a mixed revulsion and sadness, seeing for a moment what this might have been to him, ho…

“I believe that women should have educations and jobs and refrigerators to put their fucking food in and that they should be able to give birth in hospitals with incubators in the NICU,” she said, genuinely pissed. “That’s not a controversial statement.”

This was what Francis had said to her on …