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Mom loved my brother more. Not that she didn’t love me – I felt the wash of her love every day.

Aimee Bender

I’m obsessed with adolescence. I love to write about people in their 20s.
AIMEE BENDER

Adolescence Kind Obsess People Twenties Write
I didn’t mind the quiet stretches. It was like we were trying out the idea of being side by side.
AIMEE BENDER

Idea Mind Quite Side Stretch Trying
It seems the best work I do is when I am really allowing the unconscious to rule the page and then later I can go back and hack around and make sense of things.
AIMEE BENDER

Allow Back Best Later Page Seem Unconscious Work Writing
That she might not actually know us seemed the humblest thing a mother could admit.
AIMEE BENDER

Actually Admit Humble might Mother Seem She
A Dorito asks nothing of you, which is its great gift. It only asks that you are not there.
AIMEE BENDER

Ask Doritos Doubt Gift Great Nothing
I am the drying meadow; you the unspoken apology; he is the fluctuating distance between mother and son.
AIMEE BENDER

Apology Baby Distance Drying Fluctuate Life Mother Son Unspoken
I could feel the tears beginning to collect in my throat again, but I pushed them apart, away from each other. Tears are only a threat in groups.
AIMEE BENDER

Again Away Beginning Each Groups Other Tear Throat
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
Mom flipped through the magazines like the pages needed to be slapped.
AIMEE BENDER

Flip Magazine Mom Need Page Slap
You try, you seem totally nuts, you go underground.
AIMEE BENDER

Nuts Trying Seem Totally Underground
Sometimes, she said, mostly to herself, I feel I do not know my children…
AIMEE BENDER

Children Herself Mother Thinking
The most so far, because she found the saddest thing of all to be the simple truth of her capacity to move on.
AIMEE BENDER

All Capacity Found Fra Most Move Sad Simple Thing Truth
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
We’re all getting too smart. Our brains are just getting bigger and bigger, and the world dries up and dies when there’s too much thought and not enough heart.
AIMEE BENDER

Bigger Brain Dry Heart Smart Up World
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
Mom loved my brother more. Not that she didn’t love me – I felt the wash of her love every day.
AIMEE BENDER

Brother Daughter Day Every Lover Mom More She

Mom loved my brother more. Not that she didn’t love me – I felt the wash of her love every day.

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Mom loved my brother more. Not that she didn’t love me – I felt the wash of her love every day.

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Popular Authors

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