The Whore's Child and Other Stories

I read most of this book on the flights to and from Charlottesville the second-last weekend of April; it provided good company. Squeezed in tightly beside a woman scribbling notes on a scrap of paper on the way to CHO, I quietly and briefly cried at the part about the dog in ‰ЫПJoy Ride‰Ыќ; I actually put down the book and wiped my eyes with my air-dirty fingers.