The red arrow leaves nothing to doubt. It points at the start of the labyrinth to the true beginning of the maze. I don’t much like the look of it. This is not the gentle, fun beginning of a child’s puzzle from my girlhood memories. I can already see there’s trouble ahead and I haven’t… Continue Reading
Author Archives: Sidney Stark
Patience
An overly ambitious push on the toothpaste tube forced a hollow exhale, but no paste. I stared at it, stupid with the realization I’d almost run out. These days it’s harder to tell. The aluminum tubes of not-so-long-ago stayed where you put them, curled up neatly from the bottom to indicate what was gone and… Continue Reading
This Old House
This old house feels so new. ‘Born’ in the 1800’s, two years after the end of the civil war, to be precise, it nonetheless has the fresh energy and hopeful lift of youth. Of course, identifying when an historic house was built always raises more questions than it answers. What signified the start of its… Continue Reading
Recovery Room
Walking up the block away from the East River, it’s hard to see through the soup…fog drifting in and out, clinging to things invisible with wispy wet tendrils. It reminds me of my husband’s brain tumor, and also the endless days of gray near the shore at certain times of the year. You just start to… Continue Reading
This Is My Husband
“…for it is the fate — the genetic and neural fate — of every human being to be a unique individual, to find his own path, to live his own life, to die his own death.”—Oliver Sacks Small red marks like infected mosquito bites cover my chest in surprising fury, their rash-like presence upsets and… Continue Reading
On Becoming “Remusicked”
‘Can we review the future?’ What a question. How can you re-view something you can’t see in the first place? Oh, I know there are people who plan their lives around it and wallow in angst or triumph over what they think is coming, but most of us know that’s a waste of time. Being… Continue Reading