Of course, all that changed in an instant on 9/11, with no one even thinking of the Democratic primary for Mayor in New York City. much less voting, after the first plane hit the World Trade Center.
When the earthquake struck nearby Sichuan province that May, we did everything wrong; we did not leap from the one free window. We remained calm, sought out doorways and braced ourselves, hearing the windows rattle in their loose frames and the doors above slamming as the upstairs residents fled the building in fright.
He never has either but he doesn’t tell her that. He pulls his own bathing suit down and guides her hand. She just holds it. They look at each other, then quickly away, to their mothers at the top of the bluff.
She’d make it to the grassy island in the middle of the road just before the vehicle sped by. She had been playing this game more often lately, including at night. She challenged her timing more each time, cutting things closer and closer.
Aaron Belz is the author of poetry collections The Bird Hoverer (BlazeVOX Books, 2007) and Lovely, Raspberry (Persea, 2010). His poems and essays have appeared in the Washington Post, Wired, First Things, Books & Culture, Gulf Coast, and Fence among many others.
Cheuse is well-known as a book commentator, and a regular contributor to National Public Radio's "All Things Considered." His short fiction has appeared in numerous publications and literary journals, including The New Yorker, Ploughshares, The Antioch Review, Prairie Schooner, The Idaho Review, and The Southern Review.
Across the boulevard there were still old buildings. An elderly woman appeared and threw a bucket of steaming water at the pavement. He crossed the boulevard and realized she was scrubbing excrement.