Jon Raymond > Quotes

“We kept walking, our shadows moving in shifting blobs over the ground. The sound of river rocks rattled under our feet. We turned along a bend in the stream and a curtain of poplar trees came into view, shivering in the distance, showing the white backsides of their leaves. I watched them for a while until an ancient, aching sorrow rose up in my chest. It was a familiar feeling. Something in the mute, unconscious trees resonated inside me, something so deep and fundamental it failed to remember its own source anymore. I watched the poplars flickering against the hard blue of the sky. What is sorrow? I thought. What is sorrow but old, worn out joy?”
― Jon Raymond, Livability: Stories

“The smell of the new fabric was almost overpowering. The detergents left a thin residue on my fingers as I pushed the garments back and forth. The sound of the ceramic hangers was reassuring. My whole life I’d heard that sound. I had memories of my mother shifting the hangers while I hid in the racks. Maybe if I kept shifting I’d spot myself in there.”
― Jon Raymond, Denial