I met Rachel four or five years ago. I’m not good with dates or the years in which things happen. I think it must have been five years ago, because it was during crunch, which means I was still working on Horizon Zero Dawn, which means it was five years ago. That’s the only way it could line up, I think.
Every night I was getting out of work incredibly late, going to a bar, striking out with every woman I talked to, and then heading home to sleep four...
Our father was trying to leave us.
“But he always goes to work,” said the five-year-old.
“This is different,” said his sister, who was ten.
“You’ll see me soon, baby, okay?” said our father.
“After work?”
“Lucas!” said his sister. “This is different!”
Our father didn’t know what to do. There were four of us, the five-year-old and the ten-year-old and the two middle brothers sitting on the staircase, stunned. Our mother, still young, hovered in the hallway.
On a different...
Excerpted from the novel Fish Tales by Nettie Jones (Farrar, Straus and Giroux)
I think we could say that I was feeling maudlin that early summer night. Six extra-dry vodka martinis with dilled Brussels sprouts and dinner alone in Detroit can make a monk feel maudlin. I was also tired of Little Harry’s cocktail pianist. That pianist was for sure not Bobby Short. He reminded me a bit of my piano teacher, Mr. Alpino. My mother had insisted...
