"What the hell kind of friends do you have? I’m paying twenty thousand dollars a year to send you to that private Catholic prep school, and I will not allow trash to come into my house whether literally or via social media."
His wife would be waiting for him to get home, ready to hear about his day. Desperate for a connection to a world she wasn’t part of right now.
The music conjures images of a new person. A person who can smile, laugh, interact.
Bridge of Clay is the new novel by Markus Zusak, author of The Book Thief. The new novel has been a long time coming. More than a dozen years. Stereo Stories had the privilege of Markus Zusak joining us onstage at the 2017 Williamstown Literary Festival where, backed by The Stereo Stories Band playing [...]
They listened to the radio for hours sprawled out in the meadow under the shade of the Buckeye tree, well out of range of the Amish homestead. An everlasting friendship forged.
There are guidelines to making a mix tape when you're in love: no heavy metal, no techno, no hip hop, no breakup elegies, no schmaltzy love songs and definitely no Phil Collins or Rick Astley.
As a Bowie aficionado Jack couldn’t hold a candle to Dennis, but this track burns deep at the best of times, and obliterates him in the worst. Such as now.
It was, for the moment, their song. They liked it because they’d discovered it, because it wasn’t whatever the rest of their classmates were tuning in to. Because it wasn’t U2. ‘Wo-ah, we’re halfway there!’ The lyrics echoed their own desperate fixation on the future.
The sea and the wind and the open sky all there inside the song.
Azlan Jahan, post 1947-48 Kashmiri War Fiction by Zainab Nasim The gramophone resounds in the galleries of the haveli, stirring it awake. As the needle twirled around delicately on the vinyl, he closed his eyes softly settling comfortably into his rocking chair with his stack of letters and a lit cigar. “It is not like I am not proud to be a martyr’s father, Bittoo ," he said to his grandson.