In A Way, I Think We All

A Food Truce, The Picnic Suspension Of Oedipal Feeling That Permits The Generations To Love Each Other At Family Reunions.

Madness, As I Understood It From Books, Meant A Person Who Was Open To The High White Whine Of Everything.

Heaven, Kiwi Thought, Would Be The Reading Room Of A Great Library. But It Would Be Private. Cozy. You Wouldn't Have To Worry About Some Squeaky-shoed Librarian Turning The Lights Off On You Or Gauging Your Literacy By Reading The Names On Your Book Spines, And There Wouldn't Be A Single Other Patron. The Whole Place Would Hum With A Library's Peace, Filtering Softly Over You Like White Bars Of Light.

Could We Betray Our Parents By Going Back To Them?

When I Was Younger I Used To Lock Myself In The Bathroom And Read In The Dry Tub. I Was Also A Fan Of The 'shoe Closet.' Reading Felt Thrilling And Illicit And Deeply Private To Me, And I Felt Vulnerable Doing It In Public.