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That she might not actually know us seemed the humblest thing a mother could admit.

Aimee Bender

I was right at the edge of their circle, like the tail of a Q…
AIMEE BENDER

Circle Edge Like Right Tail
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
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
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
As a writer you ask yourself to dream while awake.
AIMEE BENDER

Awake Dreams Writer Writing Yourself
I like birthday cake. It’s so symbolic. It’s a tempting symbol to load with something more complicated than just ‘Happy birthday!’ because it’s this emblem of childhood and a happy day.
AIMEE BENDER

Birthday Cake Childhood Complicate Happy Just Load Something Symbolic Tempting
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
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
It’s a pleasure to dive into Hirshberg’s storytelling skills in American Morons.
AIMEE BENDER

Country Dive Moron Pleasure Skill Story Telling
My eyelids are my own private cave, he murmured. That I can go to anytime I want.
AIMEE BENDER

Anytime Cave Eyelid Private Want
You can ruin anything if you focus at it.
AIMEE BENDER

Anything Focus Ruin
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
I am not happy, help me — like a message in a bottle sent in each meal to the eater, and I got it. I got the message.
AIMEE BENDER

Bottle Eater Esch Happy Help Meal Message Sent
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
But what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think?
AIMEE BENDER

Believe Burning Kept Passion Second Skirt Think Thinking Wonder
He was also removing all traces of any tiny leftover parts, and suddenly a ritual which I’d always found incestuous and gross seemed to me more like a desperate act on Joseph’s part to get out, to leave, to extract every little last remnant and bring it into open air.
AIMEE BENDER

Carefully Concentrate Desperate Detail Intimate Leave Open Part Remnant Ritual Time

That she might not actually know us seemed the humblest thing a mother could admit.

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That she might not actually know us seemed the humblest thing a mother could admit.

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