I mean, I suppose I read the backs of cereal boxes anyway. But seriously, every time I see a new story of Ravi’s pop up I get all giddy about it. And have to stop what I’m doing to read it right away. There’s something about the strangeness, the formality, the deep, deep sense of melancholy in his pieces that appeals to me utterly. There’s a sense that as humans, we can never really connect – that all we can do is try to understand one another and fail.
And this new one, in the always-wonderful Corium (Fall 2012!) is full of all of the above. It’s a surreal piece about families and love, about the way we grow into and sometimes outgrow the hearts of those who hold us. A bit of it:
At night I wake to quiet: the wheezing of springs bearing too heavy of a load, the insufferable snoring, both, strangely absent. I look out the window. The baby is sitting on the lowest branch of the oak tree, in his robe, gazing up at the star-freckled sky.
So go read! And then read the rest of the fall issue, too. Ms. Lauren Becker always does a sterling job of curating this magazine (at first I typed “magazing” and I think that’s kind of apt, actually) and this issue is no exception.