“Where do you want your mustache?” Melanie asked. “You can have it on the side, you know, or, if you prefer, across your labia, in which case it will also look like a cross?”

Dear Andreas,My mom is asking me to come home.They found you amongst the ferries, down the street from the pile of unearthed bedrock I lived on as a child. It took two months before you showed up again. You left everyone scared, running to the bridges, but there was no one.…

        The first one was dark and angular, coiled-looking inside an expensive suit.  Over her food at a small table in the hotel bar, Francesca had been unable to look at anything else but him.  Out of the suit, unsprung on a king-sized hotel bed, his skin…

This book is for those who have learned that sex is one of life's unpleasant experiences--like paying taxes, or renewing a driver's license--that does not become less painful through repetition.

She locked herself in the bathroom, turned on the tap and poured lavender Suave shampoo all over them and rinsed them till they no longer bled. She took off all her clothes and tried on a pair, turning in front of the mirror, thrusting her hips, pout

It was one of the first things she did after they opened the wall. That’s at least what she told me years later, more than 1000 miles from Berlin.

When thinking of the commotion surrounding Wall Street, the serious writer gets very upset.

My son, six, is practicing dying.

Foxes haunted her dreams. Islands full of foxes, truckloads of vixen.

They are watching a movie about a man who cheats on his wife, whom he loves, and is so disconsolate that his wife eventually loses all patience and leaves him. They are at the point in the film where the man considers his many blunders as he walks…

“Skip the obsequies,” he said. He meant “flattery” but he’d been taking a “30 Days to a More Powerful Vocabulary” course.

If there had been arranged marriage in eighth grade, the grade it used to be and still sometimes is when children left school to work in the fields, I would have hoped that my parents would have arranged for me to marry Mike.

Schrödinger's Cat twitched and nodded as he picked up the discards, casting his mind back to 2014, when local confidence seemed at its peak . . .

“How’s the Pinto running?” Sean says. It’s been awhile. Maybe Darcy won’t remember him.

A woman is fishing in the Seine at the far left of the painting, while time is suspended and light remains. One man plays a trumpet. A half dozen people sit or walk under parasols. Couples stroll and children run or sit or stand beside their par