This Will Be the Last Time
the cat lies on my lap while my father is still alive. No use forgiving rock for being rock or white clouds always passing…
Read Morethe cat lies on my lap while my father is still alive. No use forgiving rock for being rock or white clouds always passing…
Read MoreFor several years, my 90-year-old mother has dreaded the approach of winter. She lives in wool sweaters, pockets stuffed with tissues. She wraps in…
Read MoreEditor’s Note: Each Thursday, we feature a throwback piece from Topology’s predecessor, catapult magazine. This essay, published in 2011, has always stuck with me….
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