It's always a strange feeling looking back on an impoverished past and finding a type of wealth in it. The memoir I wrote in college had me spending a lot of time thinking about where I lived and how I lived in comparison to others, and through my adult recollection, I see a truth I couldn't have seen in the middle of it. Then there's that old hag, nostalgia, and I wonder what it does for memories... anyhow, as usual, enjoyed the read, Zev. Your stories have a familiarity to them, and they're always a bit like a cup of coffee or the reverie happening somewhere above them.
It's always a strange feeling looking back on an impoverished past and finding a type of wealth in it. The memoir I wrote in college had me spending a lot of time thinking about where I lived and how I lived in comparison to others, and through my adult recollection, I see a truth I couldn't have seen in the middle of it. Then there's that old hag, nostalgia, and I wonder what it does for memories... anyhow, as usual, enjoyed the read, Zev. Your stories have a familiarity to them, and they're always a bit like a cup of coffee or the reverie happening somewhere above them.
Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
And the familiarity is interesting, how human experiences are more alike than different.