One of the last second-person excerpts from HOUSE OF CARDS to be accepted. Fitting, its inclusion in a magazine named Shaking. For obvious reasons.
We were in a car, on our way home from New York. I can’t remember why we had gone. Maybe we went just to go. Or maybe we went to hear an author read. But we were on our way home, and I pressed him about his former relationships. Some of these stories he had outlined; other stories I was hearing for the first time.
Only later did I think of these men as my brothers.
As you excavate the bones of your former relationships, I look for any resemblance to me. A sliver of who I am, of what I’m not telling you, is in each of your stories. Assemble these slivers, and you’ll see the relationship you don’t know you have with me.