Andrea Hollander: Pleasure
Because yesterday I lay fully dressed alone on my bed listening to the sweet-tempered yatter of rain I’d longed for all summer, a sound that continued for hours against the … Continue reading
Andrea Hollander: Betrayals
At least my father did not betray anyone. It was the plaque in his brain that betrayed him. As for my ex—well, time passes, and I see how some … Continue reading
Andrea Hollander: Arkansas to Oregon
I kept the radio tuned to the oldies stations, one after another, and sometimes, if I was lucky, I’d hear “Blackbird” or “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” or another … Continue reading
Andrea Hollander: Room to Room
And then I began to muse, the way all of us do who have been let down, betrayed, left to wander room to room, taking a stack of dishtowels from … Continue reading
Andrea Hollander: The Before and the After
At the airport terminal the coarse sound of wheeled suitcases, a toddler giggling, running a few feet beyond his father. A brown-haired woman at the kiosk that sells last-minute … Continue reading
