A couple of days ago our fridge broke down and now our kitchen smells like an open grave. My in-laws got here today and tomorrow they’ll be helping us out for a new one, which takes care of the whole weekend as I hear they’ll be hooking it up themselves. I expect fire. 

Meanwhile, I’m dividing my time among working on some private aspirations & surrendering to drowsiness & maxing out my Kindle cards & eating really boring flavorless shit like unspiced barley & lamb’s bone consommé. 

Been a while since I’ve put together a short story reading list. Feels like a good Friday night for it.

Send in requests or suggestions, if you will. It would be a delight for me to look for free links to more literature to post for your reading pleasure.

…..

Till then, here are a couple handfuls of free stuff to read if you’re looking for free stuff to read:

Italo Calvino - The Adventure of a Photographer

Ernest Hemingway - In Another Country

William Faulkner - Carcassonne

Don DeLillo - Midnight in Dostoevsky

Anton Chekhov - Ward No. 6

Rainer Maria Rilke - The Book of Hours (and more)

David Eagleman - Sum: Forty Tales from the Afterlives

Herman Melville - The Bell-tower (and more)

Isaac Asimov - Nightfall

Flannery O’Connor - Everything that Rises Must Converge

Saul Bellow - A Silver Dish

Cormac McCarthy - The Sunset Limited

David Mitchell - Dénouement

Jorge Luis Borges - The Aleph

John Updike - Rabbit at Rest

Hear John Ashbery read more from The New Spirit & other of his poems here. 

Hear John Ashbery read more from The New Spirit & other of his poems here

John Updike
“I like middles. It is in middles that extremes clash, where ambiguity restlessly rules.”
John Updike, Rabbit, Run
“You do things and do things and nobody really has a clue.”
Kurt Vonnegut
“Everybody pays attention to pictures of things. Nobody pays attention to things themselves.”
Don DeLillo, White Noise
“The more I threw away, the more I found.”
Wallace Stevens
“I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendos,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.”
Junot Díaz
“But if these years have taught me anything it is this: you can never run away. Not ever. The only way out is in.”
Leto II, The Voice of Dar-es-Balat 
“It is your fate, forgetfulness. All of the old lessons of life, you lose and gain and lose and gain again.”
Jorge Luis Borges
“You can’t measure time by days the way you measure money by dollars and cents, because dollars are all the same while every day is different and maybe every hour as well.”

To Music

Music: breathing of statues. Perhaps:
silence of paintings. You, language where all language
ends. You, time
standing vertically on the motion of mortal hearts.

Feelings for whom? O you the transformation
of feelings into what? - : into audible landscape.
You stranger: music. You, heart-space
grown out of us. The deepest space in us,
which, rising above us, forces its way out, -
holy departure:
when the innermost point in us stands
outside, as the most practiced distance, as the other
side of the air:
pure,
boundless,
no longer habitable.

- Rainer Maria Rilke

Herman Melville
“Backward or forward, eternity is the same; already have we been the nothing we dread to be.”
Carl Jung
“I do not forget that my voice is but one voice, my experience a mere drop in the sea, my knowledge no greater than the visual field in a microscope.”
Septim themes