139 10 11
|
Children imagine dying all the time, especially when someone in their life, someone close, has died. Children's games often include pretend dying, flopping around after being shot for about three minutes, choking, falling to the ground and…
|
9594
|
"The rhubarb grew like seaweed blotting out the underwater house, the tangle of giant leaves making it impossible to get out the front door, like in The Day of the Triffids." Ziggy Zimmerman was lying on his analyst's…
|
12895
|
I was working on my dissertation that summer, and I took a part-time job doing psychological testing in a poor public school system. The town would send me around to different elementary schools to test their most troubled children, or, rather,…
|
9233
|
They were magical children, the two little boys who lived under the sloped roof and big Northeastern skylight of their bedroom in the little Cape, like a tree house in the forest, with families of cardinals, blue jays, goldfinches,…
|
102105
|
no one takes any real notice of her.
|
6312
|
In overalls, earflaps and muddy work boots, my grandfather Zeidika blended with the Christian townspeople. But in his long black coat that tied like a bathrobe, the Hasid just arrived from Brooklyn at the rural New Jersey train sation stood out…
|
12843
|
Overheard from the back seat of car:
|
1200
|
As a child, I was sick for a week with the flu and then pneumonia and spent every day on puffed up pillows under down blankets eating popsicles and watching the movie of the week on the Million Dollar Movie: The Crawling …
|
9853
|
|
105122
|
|
85421
|
The monsters in the sky burst with riotous laughter, their rumbling voices barking out commands, their cracked nails scratching on the screen, their knotted knuckles tap-taping on the window. Little girl, won't you come out to play? She clutches her floral bed sheets,…
|
105106
|
|
300
|
These were definitely the two worst ways to die.
|
1362108
|
Half-pint Ball canning jars, each labeled in earnest capital letters, took up a whole wall of Teeny’s bedroom. Inside each jar was air she had collected from some place important to her life.
|
200
|
The therapist started to seem increasingly far away, his head a tiny potato head, across the ignorant universe of his dustless desk that seemed to get bigger and bigger as the session progressed, like something out of Alice in Wonderland.
|
