Here

TSCHITTGUSSIL.

Richard McGuire, Here (2014)

The Colloquy of the Dogs

Look you, Berganza, no one should interfere where he is not wanted, nor take upon himself a business that is in no wise his concern. Besides, you ought to know, that the advice of the poor, however good it may be, is never taken; nor should the lowly presume to offer advice to the great, who fancy they know everything. Wisdom in a poor man lies under a cloud, and cannot be seen; or if by chance it shines through it, people mistake it for folly, and treat it with contempt.

Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, The Colloquy Of The Dogs (1613)

Steve Poltz

The Art Of Racing In The Rain

The now-living zebra said nothing to me at all, but when it saw me, it began a dance, a twisting, jerky ballet which culminated with the zebra repeatedly thrusting its gelded groin into the face of an innocent Barbie doll. That made me quite angry, and I growled at the molester zebra, but it simply smiled and continued its assault, this time picking on a stuffed frog, which it mounted from behind and rode bareback, its hoof in the air like a bronc rider, yelling out, "Yee-haw! Yee-haw!"

I stalked the bastard as it abused and humiliated each of Zoe's toys with great malice. Finally, I could take no more and moved in, teeth bared for attack, to end the brutal burlesque once and for all. But before I could get the demented zebra in my fangs, it stopped dancing and stood on its hind legs before me. The it reached down with its forelegs and tore at the seam that ran down its belly. Its own seam! It ripped the seam open until it was able to reach in and tear out its own stuffing. It continued dismantling itself, seam by seam, handful by handful, until it expelled whatever demon's blood had brought it to life and was nothing more than a pile of fabric and stuffing that undulated on the floor, beating like a heart ripped from a chest, slowly, slower, and then nothing.

Garth Stein, The Art Of Racing In The Rain (2008)

Bill Kirchen

The Eye Stone

It was the first time in his life that Edgardo had slept under the same roof as a woman. Although their beds were not close, he thought he could hear her breath and heartbeat. Even when the mind is not willing, and the body is not willing either, desire awakens and sin takes over your soul. He tossed and turned under the blanket, unable to sleep. The night silence had turned into a racket. The swish of the waves along the shore had become a waterfall, and the cry of an owl had become a call of death. The faint flame of the oil lamp squashed the shadows into the floor, awakening glistening eyes and fragments of stars.

Edgardo started to pray as he had been taught to by monks when he could not sleep for love or money. However, Kallis's breath and heartbeat seemed to grow louder and dance around him. He continued to repeat his litany to chase away thoughts and images.

Roberto Tiraboschi, The Eye Stone: The First Medieval Noir About The Birth Of Venice, (2014)

Some Desperate Glory

Siegfried Sassoon, engaged in polishing his golf clubs, looked at this 'modest and ingratiating' visitor, taking in his occasional stammer, 'border Welsh' accent and gushing idolatry. 'The Death Bed', [Wilfred] Owen said, was the finest poem in the book; its author would have liked this, wishing to be known for his lyrical works rather than his satires. The visitor said that he too was a poet. What, Sassoon wondered, could this 'interesting little chap' have written?

Max Egremont, Some Desperate Glory: The First World War The Poets Knew (2014)

Roosevelt And Stalin

He had articulated this idea in the exceedingly short but pointed inaugural address he had delivered, standing on the south porch of the White House on a bitterly cold morning (hatless, capeless) just before leaving for the Yalta Conference. It contained a section clearly directed not only at Stalin but at Allied decision makers wondering if he was on the level:

We have learned the simple truth, as Emerson said, that 'The only way to have a friend is to be one.' We can gain no lasting piece if we approach it with suspicion and mistrust or with fear. We can gain it only if we proceed with the understanding, and the courage which flow from this conviction.

Every action Roosevelt took in the few months left to him flowed from this idea. Churchill must have listened to the speech (and to most of the ideas FDR expressed in 1945) with a sinking heart.

Susan Butler, Roosevelt And Stalin: Portrait Of A Partnership (2015)

Long Arms

We Should All Be Feminists

I was once talking about gender and a man said to me, 'Why does it have to be you as a woman? Why not you as a human being?' This type of question is about silencing a person's specific experiences. Of course I am a human being, but there are particular things that happen to me in the world because I am a woman.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, We Should All Be Feminists (2014)