A Literary Magazine Sponsored by The University of Maine at Farmington
“The quote pushed me to accept that I have something to share that no one else can, while reminding me that my unique position and perspective should do less to separate me and more to bond me to the collective whole of human experience.”
“As I neared the work site, my father was standing with his weight leaning on a long metal bar, bucket hat and tinted sunglasses, leather work gloves, and a watchful look to examine how much of this he was going to have to explain and how much he was going to be able to leave unsaid because I am his son.”
“Trethowan’s quote struck me. It’s one of those things that we might not often stop to ponder. Like, if you think about how heavy a rain cloud is, it’s amazing that it seems to float in the sky. Man has been to the moon, but we don’t know why hiccups occur.”
“the two people in the booth behind me, were a grandfather and a granddaughter. They were strangers to me and still are. I never saw them. I didn’t dwell on their conversation, but I did hear enough to piece together a story.”
“The quote seemed improbable. It sparked some synapses. Electrical. Chemical. Confusion. I could feel my brain feeling around in the vault. Don’t I know who Pancho Villa is? Somewhere between echoes of a Townes Van Zandt song and Three Amigo movie caricatures, I found a feeling where I thought I’d stored a fact.”