Fiction | Hazlitt

It was the best first wedding we could have asked for. But it wasn’t enough! Clearly!

In Dolor, we had no concept of damage. Time was the closest to damage we knew.

“I’m not afraid of a dare,” I said. “I’ll do whatever.”

Olivia Robinson was and is much worse than I am. She’s also, in the sense that matters to her and to our world, much greater.

A very Russian turn of events: no solutions, but the trouble passes—so why bring it up?

“I guess I should tell you about something.”

Her thoughts returned to the battlefield.

Ebbing had perfect fetal recall.

“Tell me what man would drive all that way if there wasn’t something waiting.”

Is that bizarre? he asked. That such a brief experience of love was too much?