On one of those mornings when all the clocks’ hands point Nadir and the graying snow neutralizes heart burn, the only thing that can happen is the ring of the door bell: a book ordered weeks ago left on the front steps. The postman doesn’t need confirmation. Geography III, a used book by Elizabeth […]
Trains approach them like ghosts, the way a husband returning after midnight slips under the covers, keeping his cold feet at a distance. A post office. A ticket booth. The slow clock hung on a nail. Some of the passengers have been sitting on the same chairs for a while now. They know you’re […]
He grew up in a small town by the water, where people answer questions with another question. Long summers, rebellious without cause, and on the river’s edges, leaves graying like sideburns. On Sundays, four women wash clothes slapping their men’s shirts on the river rocks. Four other women imitate the first, taking revenge […]
It begins when you start searching for a darkness that resembles you, as searching for rhyme at the end of a following line of verse, for a little music, or the exchange of carbon dioxide between flowers in the evening. It – the feeling of turning forty. And it’s only a matter of style the […]
Heart of November. Wind blows like a shuffling of eras. Snow and my mother’s face wait in the background to test their philosophy of inevitability. Lights, like a line of ants, lead to the dining room. I am the bride. It’s the end of the ceremony. And as I prepare to sleep others carefully remove […]
I have no memory of it. I believe a river caught up with us when we curved the foot of the mountain. Men and women got off the bus to drink. My father cupped his hands and I gulped mouthfuls. Snow patches led the way to the cool black smoke of the woods. […]
Ani Gjika read her favorite poem, "Tell Me a Story," by Robert Penn Warren and talks about why it's her favorite.
Ani Gjika offers some advice to young writers.