My (longish) nonfiction personal narrative, "Two Weeks in Vegas," appears in the current issue of Quay/a Journal of the Arts, in print and online here.
Contrary to the kitschy title, the piece is by turns somber, sober and maybe a just a little bit sweet (but not saccharin I hope), written in the days following my father's death, and dealing with the surreal feelings that particular life event churns up, set against the backdrop of the very strange city that was his home for 25 years.
2 comments:
This is really beautiful Lisa.
I am about to endure what you have already endured, and I read this essay hungry for direction, or possibly selfish reassurance that I, too, would survive my father's death, and maybe learn to be happy again. I suspect, however, that the advice of my cousin, who has already lost both her parents, should be kept in the forefront of my expectations. She says, "Nothing prepares you for it." I daresay you would agree.
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