Sometimes The Dreams That Come True Are

In This Deeply Nuanced Portrait Of An American Family, Bret Anthony Johnston Fearlessly Explores The Truth Behind A Mythic Happy Ending. In Remember Me Like This, Johnston Presents An Incisive Dismantling Of An All-too-comforting Fallacy: That In Being Found We Are No Longer Lost.

I Loved The Way The Burned-out Flashcubes Of The Kodak Instamatic Marked A Moment That Had Passed, One That Would Now Be Gone Forever Except For A Picture.

We Have This Desire For Everything To Be Explained To Us. But If You Go Through Your Daily Actions, Very Little Ends Up Having A Written-down Explanation For Why Things Happen, Or Why People Do Specific Things. So It Made Sense To Me To Reflect The Human Condition That Not Every Action Has An Explanation. We Act, And Then Later Maybe Come To An Understanding About It, Or Maybe Not.

Inside The Snow Globe On My Father's Desk, There Was A Penguin Wearing A Red-and-white-striped Scarf. When I Was Little My Father Would Pull Me Into His Lap And Reach For The Snow Globe. He Would Turn It Over, Letting All The Snow Collect On The Top, Then Quickly Invert It. The Two Of Us Watched The Snow Fall Gently Around The Penguin. The Penguin Was Alone In There, I Thought, And I Worried For Him. When I Told My Father This, He Said, "don't Worry, Susie; He Has A Nice Life. He's Trapped In A Perfect World.

Murder Had A Blood Red Door On The Other Side Of Which Was Everything Unimaginable To Everyone.