Eli S. Evans: Is That It

I spent a good part of my childhood at home staring outside my bedroom window, following the trail of planes approaching the nearby Paris airport in the sky from my banlieue. I envied the passengers...

From the bridge, I go back, usually, through Babelsberg. I pass flocks of ducks trustingly swimming up to the shore. Above, on a small hill—the palace...

A taste for rural scenes, in the present state of society, appears to be very often an artificial sentiment, rather inspired by poetry and romances, than a real perception of the beauties of nature...

A house down around the block is getting a new roof, hammers echoing like giant flickers. Since the big virus outbreak...

I was twenty years and thirty days old when that bomb went off in downtown Bogotá...

All men are equal on their holidays: all are free to dream their castles without thought of expense, or skill of architect...

I neither wish to be hated & deified by such as I startle...

Katey worked for a time at the Volta Cinema when she was seventeen...

Yesterday, while on extended hold with an appliance store, I deleted dead people from my Contacts...

The cool shadow of the fig-trees in the yards, with the whiff of that queer smell, heavy with romance, of wine-saturated oak and crumbling plaster; I know with a little stab of joy that this is Italy...

In philosophical treatments of friendship, it can often be elevated to the highest form of human relationships, even if its perfect form is rare...

When I worked in a second-hand bookshop the thing that chiefly struck me was the rarity of really bookish people...

Elizabeth Bishop explored Brazil extensively, making trips down the Amazon, traversing the tropical rainforest with Aldous Huxley...

It couldn’t possibly be that I was actually missing the ebb and flow of office life, could it?

A parenthetical phrase (like this one) may refer to things outside of it, parts of the sentence it inhabits (say)...

Important as the soup is in To the Lighthouse it is never identified, never seen as “beautiful red soup” or “eternal” tomato soup...

There is a great tree in Sussex, whose cloud of thin foliage floats high in the summer air...