black
grey
blue
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brown
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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

You’re the perfect girl’, he said, rubbing his chin. ‘You expect nothing.
AIMEE BENDER

Expect Girl Nothing Perfect Rub
Sometimes, she said, mostly to herself, I feel I do not know my children…
AIMEE BENDER

Children Herself Mother Thinking
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
We hit the sidewalk, and dropped hands. How I wished, right then, that the whole world was a street.
AIMEE BENDER

Drop Hand Hit Sidewalk Street Wish World
That she might not actually know us seemed the humblest thing a mother could admit.
AIMEE BENDER

Actually Admit Humble might Mother Seem She
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
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
The writing I tend to think of as ‘good’ is good because it’s mysterious.
AIMEE BENDER

Good Mysterious Tent Thinking Writing
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
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
I admired that stride; it was like he folded space in two with it.
AIMEE BENDER

Admire Fold Like Space Stride Two
I’m obsessed with adolescence. I love to write about people in their 20s.
AIMEE BENDER

Adolescence Kind Obsess People Twenties Write
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 was right at the edge of their circle, like the tail of a Q…
AIMEE BENDER

Circle Edge Like Right Tail
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
Listen. Look. Desire is a house. Desire needs closed space. Desire runs out of doors or windows, or slats or pinpricks, it can’t fit under the sky, too large. Close the doors. Close the windows.
AIMEE BENDER

Blow Close Desire Door Large Listen Need Run Sky Space Window

The most so far, because she found the saddest thing of all to be the simple truth of her capacity to move on.

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The most so far, because she found the saddest thing of all to be the simple truth of her capacity to move on.

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Popular Authors

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