By Michael Katakis
A visceral and eviscerating lament for the us, the rustic Katakis enjoyed yet can not endure to reside in.
Once upon a time, Michael Katakis lived in a spot of massive desires, vivid colors and sleight of hand. That position used to be America.
One evening, vacationing the place those that reside inside illusions shouldn't ever pass, he stared into the darkness and glimpsed a pale flag the place shadows amassed, revealing one other the USA. It used to be a damaged position, bred from worry and mistrust - 1000 shards of glass - choked with a those that in the past had given away all that was once valuable; a those who were bought, for therefore lengthy, a international betrayal that eventually got here from inside of, and for not anything greater than a handful of silver.
These essays, letters and magazine entries have been written as a farewell to the rustic Michael loves nonetheless, and to the spouse he knew as his 'True North'. a robust and private polemic, 1000 Shards of Glass is Michael's entice his fellow electorate to alter their direction; a cautionary story to these world wide who idealise an the US that by no means was once; and, crucially, a glimpse past the parable, to a rustic whose most sensible days may well nonetheless lie forward.
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Extra info for A Thousand Shards of Glass: There Is Another America
I ran over. Steve said that Jim went back into the airport one last time to find me because he knew I was coming. I turned to see him striding toward me. ” He beamed. I ran to him, squeezed him and kissed his smooth cheeks, his lips, and we laughed. I felt his flesh and knew without a doubt that he was alive. “God, it’s good to see you,” I gasped while I buried my nose and mouth in the warm earthy smell of his neck. “You too. ” Jim grinned as he scanned my tanned shoulders. My cheeks ached from smiling.
He pulled the covers up around his neck. I wrapped my body around him and tried to absorb the pain. As we both struggled, the void between us intensified. One evening Jim and I sat on opposite sides of my living room, and I asked him to let me in, to help him with his grieving. Jim gazed past me and said, “I don’t think it’s fair to ask you to carry the burden of the risk I have taken. ” I sat up at the clarity and practised nature of his words. ” I gulped and held my breath. A few tears trickled down my cheeks, but Jim remained on the other side of the room.
I finished my meal as quickly as I could and motioned to the waiter to bring the bill. Jim phoned most nights while he was gone. With each conversation, fear pulled my heartstrings taut like a bow. I wondered why I rejected a proposal for a date from a pleasant fellow I met by chance. Six weeks later my body sagged as I stood in the arrivals area, waiting for Jim’s flight. I cringed when he bounced over beaming a warm smile. Although his clothes hung on him and stubble shadowed his face, he looked cuter than I remembered.
A Thousand Shards of Glass: There Is Another America by Michael Katakis