Gerald Richter's 2005 oil painting "September" |
Fresh from her pool, Claire gets a telephone call to inform
her that the World Trade Center towers have fallen, and that her husband was in
one of them.
“’Mommy, you smell like the pool,’ William sniffled a day —
or was it two? — later. She had not thought to shower since the news. She would
think often about having been submerged in water while her husband was consumed
by fire. What did this say? It was like a myth, a dark poem whose meaning just
eluded her.”
That’s from Amy Waldman’s “The Submission,” the novel the
Eastern Illinois University campus is reading right now, and that’s what I call
good writing.
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