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When the light at Vernon turned green, we stepped into the street and George grabbed my hand and the ghosts of our younger selves crossed with us.

Aimee Bender

Mom flipped through the magazines like the pages needed to be slapped.
AIMEE BENDER

Flip Magazine Mom Need Page Slap
Kissing George was a little like rolling in caramel after spending years surviving off rice sticks.
AIMEE BENDER

Kiss People Rice Rolling Stick Survive Year
My eyelids are my own private cave, he murmured. That I can go to anytime I want.
AIMEE BENDER

Anytime Cave Eyelid Private Want
With my hand in his, I looked at all the apartment buildings with rushes of love, peering in the wide streetside windows that revealed living rooms painted in dark burgandies and matte reds.
AIMEE BENDER

Apartment Building Dark Hand Look Love Peer Room Rush Streetside Window
Pouring over me, but it was a different kind, siphoned from a different, and tamer, body of water. I was her darling daughter; Joseph was her it.
AIMEE BENDER

Body Darling Daughter Different Kind Pour Siphoned Tamer Water
Sometimes, she said, mostly to herself, I feel I do not know my children…
AIMEE BENDER

Children Herself Mother Thinking
While she cut the mushrooms, she cried more than she had at the grave.
AIMEE BENDER

Cry Cut Cutting Grave Moving Mushroom Simple
The stories themselves haunt, they stick around, they linger, inhabiting a little corner of the reader’s brain and resurfacing to evoke mystery or sadness or longing.
AIMEE BENDER

Around Brain Corner Evoke Inhabiting Mystery Reader Resurfacing Sad Stick Story
It was like we were exchanging codes, on how to be a father and a daughter, like we’d read about it in a manual, translated from another language, and were doing our best with what we could understand.
AIMEE BENDER

Code Daughter Details exchange Father Language Read
But I loved George in part because he believed me; because if I stood in a cold, plain room and yelled FIRE, he would walk over and ask me why.
AIMEE BENDER

Ask Believe Cold Fire Pain Part Room Why
I want to be violated by insight.
AIMEE BENDER

Insight Violate Want
Not getting bored of my own story and/or character is one of the main struggles.
AIMEE BENDER

Bore Character Getting Main Struggle Writing
I was right at the edge of their circle, like the tail of a Q…
AIMEE BENDER

Circle Edge Like Right Tail
But the sky is interesting, it changes all the time.
AIMEE BENDER

All Change Interest Sky Time
and I get refill number three or four and the wine is making my bones loose and it’s giving my hair a red sheen and my breasts are blooming and my eyes feel sultry and wise and the dress is water.
AIMEE BENDER

Bone Eye Four Giving Hair Lose Number Wine Wise
You’re the perfect girl’, he said, rubbing his chin. ‘You expect nothing.
AIMEE BENDER

Expect Girl Nothing Perfect Rub

When the light at Vernon turned green, we stepped into the street and George grabbed my hand and the ghosts of our younger selves crossed with us.

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When the light at Vernon turned green, we stepped into the street and George grabbed my hand and the ghosts of our younger selves crossed with us.

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Popular Authors

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