It was the summer I turned fifteen, our first summer at the lake house and – as my father insisted on informing us as we drove through the thinning traffic on our way out of the city – it was the summer that the ISON comet, long predicted to be among the brightest ever seen,
Tag: Glass
Composing himself at the stairhead before descent, he groaned as he thought about it, exhaling audibly. The he was Konstantine Orlando Glass, the it fiction writing: a match determined by chance and defined by complication, and responsible for a life of unrest and despondency. It had all begun so promisingly. His debut novel, Fragility, the