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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

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
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
My lover is experiencing reverse evolution.
AIMEE BENDER

Evolution Experience Lover Reverse
My eyelids are my own private cave, he murmured. That I can go to anytime I want.
AIMEE BENDER

Anytime Cave Eyelid Private Want
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
I watched as she added a question mark at the end. Arc, line, space, dot.
AIMEE BENDER

Add Dot Line Question Space Watch
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
Before she knew it was candles, did she think she’d done it herself? With the amazing turns of her hips.
AIMEE BENDER

Amazing Candle Done Herself Hip Knew She Think Turn
I want to be violated by insight.
AIMEE BENDER

Insight Violate Want
To see someone you love, in a bad setting, is one of the great barometers of gratitude.
AIMEE BENDER

Barometer Gratitude Love Setting Someone
It was a fleeting statement, one I didn’t think she’d hold on to; after all, she had birthed us alone, diapered and fed us, helped us with homework, kissed and hugged us, poured her love into us.
AIMEE BENDER

After Birthed Fleet Help Homework Kiss Love Pour Statement
Mom flipped through the magazines like the pages needed to be slapped.
AIMEE BENDER

Flip Magazine Mom Need Page Slap
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

Ghost Grab Hand Light Self Step Street
Light is good company, when alone; I took my comfort where I found it, and the warmest yellow bulb in the living-room lamp had become a kind of radiant babysitter all its own.
AIMEE BENDER

Bulb Comfort Company Good Light Living Room Took Warmest Yellow
While she cut the mushrooms, she cried more than she had at the grave.
AIMEE BENDER

Cry Cut Cutting Grave Moving Mushroom Simple
There’s a gift in your lap and it’s beautifully wrapped and it’s not your birthday.
AIMEE BENDER

Beautiful Birthday Important Lap Think Wrap

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.

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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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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