fiction

Holy Cookie Monster! Sesame Street just turned House of Cards into a fable worthy of Aesop. 

My parents got the idea they’d send me to stay at my grandparents’ house in Florida for a week. I think my mother needed a week to herself.

My stomach turns at the touch of his rough hands, and I vomit on his bare feet.

My tights are cutting me in half at the waist . . . just like a sausage in its casing.

And yet, life remained. Humankind was not of such an ilk to disappear quietly into the night. Escape may yet come to pass

Five insanely talented female writers, including Zadie Smith and Rose Tremain, have earned the highest of literary praise.

While we don’t have that much in common—mostly that I’m not a famous dictator—I suspect we could talk for days.

She told me George Plimpton had once tried to pick her mother up in a bar on President’s Day. She had turned him down, of course.