I Grew Up Sort Of Middle Class,

We Stumble On, Thinks Jaslyn, Bring A Little Noise Into The Silence, Find In Others The Ongoing Of Ourselves. It Is Almost Enough.

That's What Sons Do: Write To Their Mothers About Recall, Tell Themselves About The Past Until They Come To Realize That They Are The Past.

...and It Strikes Her, As She Walks, That Borders, Like Hatred, Are Exaggerated Precisely Because Otherwise They Would Cease To Exist Altogether.

She's Always Thought That One Of The Beauties Of New York Is That You Can Be From Anywhere And Within Moments Of Landing Its Yours.

Sometimes We Just Walk Into Something That Is Not For Us At All. We Pretend It Is. We Think We Can Shrug It Off Like A Coat, But It's Not A Coat At All, It's More Like Another Skin. [...] All I Wanted Was To Make My Life Thrilling For A While: To Take The Oridinary Objects Of My Days And Make A Different Argument Out Of Them, No Obligations To My Past.