Tag Archives: Shane Hinton

What to Read in November

They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us by Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib: “In an age of confusion, fear, and loss, Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib’s is a voice that matters. Whether he’s attending a Bruce Springsteen concert the day after visiting Michael Brown’s grave, or discussing public displays of affection at a Carly Rae Jepsen show, he writes with a poignancy and magnetism that resonates profoundly.”

The End We Start From by Megan Hunter: “As London is submerged below floodwaters, a woman gives birth to her first child, Z. Days later, she and her baby are forced to leave their home in search of safety. They head north through a newly dangerous country seeking refuge from place to place. The story traces fear and wonder as the baby grows, thriving and content against all the odds. ”

We Can’t Help It If We’re From Florida, edited by Shane Hinton: “Florida is more than just fodder for hard-boiled crime novels and zany farces. This anthology of new stories and essays challenges a star-studded line up of current and former Floridians to write about the state through a literary lens, though not without the requisite weirdness.”

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Intersection

Intersection

The car crashed into our living room the afternoon of July third. I was in the kitchen making sandwiches while my wife watched our son play in the back yard. The driver had been drinking.

A busy street dead ends into our house, and for years people have been hitting our exterior walls. Sometimes they swerve and only clip a corner of the house; sometimes they hit the brakes and skid to a stop in the driveway, denting the metal garage door.

This drunk driver never even slowed down until he was parked in our living room. His blue sedan made it all the way down the hallway, tearing out the walls of our son’s bedroom and upending our couch on his hood. He stopped just inches short of the kitchen bar.

I put my half-made sandwich down on the plate and went to the driver’s side window. The driver looked stunned. His windshield was covered in drywall dust. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Nice couch,” he said, rubbing his jaw. The airbag left bright red marks on his cheeks. I wondered if he had head trauma.

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