“in the distance, she heard her husband in the backyard call for her, but she was not that woman anymore, that mother and wife. she was nightbitch, and she was fucking amazing. it seemed she had been waiting for this for a very, very long time.”
“this is not really that complicated, although it may seem to be. all it actually means is that even when one remembers something one did not remember one remembered, one may have still no more than scratched the surface in regard to things one does not remember one remembers.”
“ever since my mom died, i cry in h mart.”
we talk to steven hall, author of the raw shark texts, about un-chapters, adapting novels into visual media, and messing with audiences.
“it came up at me in a burst of spray – memories and regrets and wishes and sadness and happiness and dreams – the shark’s head, two black toy eyes either side of a huge grey bullet anvil jumbo jet slashed open all across into a black and red funnel full of teeth.”
“i’m going to die out here. and i’m going to die alone.”
