The Angle

First Page


Last Page



In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.

"The color had drained out of the ends of her fingers, painlessly and into some invisible, uncharted air of a prickling, noticeably draftier September morning—the sort of morning senses thrive in. As she stepped out of the passenger side of a squatty Volvo onto a crumbling sidewalk, a gust of scarf-weather wind stabbed at the patch of exposed skin just above her shirt collar. There was a rapid movement of her hand racing with her zipper up her torso and a slight wince embedded in the curve of her mouth. Then nothing stirred, save a fluctuation of air in her stomach."

Additional Files