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241 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2002
for the past two years, i’ve set december’s project aside to do my own version of a short story advent calendar. it’s not a true advent calendar since i choose all the stories myself, but what it lacks in the ‘element of surprise’ department it more than makes up for in hassle, as i try to cram even MORE reading into a life already overcrammed with impossible personal goals (live up to your potential! find meaningful work! learn to knit!) merry merry wheee!
since i am already well behind in my *regular* reviewing, when it comes to these stories, whatever i poop out as far as reflections or impressions are going to be superficial and perfunctory at best. please do not weep for the great big hole my absented, much-vaunted critical insights are gonna leave in these daily review-spaces (and your hearts); i’ll try to drop shiny insights elsewhere in other reviews, and here, i will at least drop links to where you can read the stories yourselves for free, which - let’s be honest - is gonna serve you better anyway.
HAPPY READING, BOOKNERDS!
"Are you a father?"
"Of course," he answers. "But my children, they are not with me in my home. So I think I do not 'have' them, as you say."
"Oh," I say. "I'm sorry, then."
"That's no problem," he says. "But you. I think you look very bad. Unhappy."
"No sleep. My son is acting a little weird, and my husband is angry."
"Anger is for husbands," Ismail says with a shrug. "That is the way."
"I know, but this is different. We disagree about Wes. About how best to raise him. You understand?"
Ismail, perched above me in his chair, lowers a hand, seemingly toward my hair, and then lets it slide away. "In this country," he says, "I cannot imagine to be a father. Your problems, they are so—" I think he's going to say "ridiculous"—"decadent."
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