Under the Weather

Under the Weather


Storm in the Rockies, by Albert Bierstadt. 1866

We have some new fiction on tap, by Nels Hanson: In Pace Requiescat. Persectivalism, elective affinities and religious sensibilities. What is a hero? Why do some of us view the same people in such radically different ways? Your comments about the story are welcome.

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I’ve been a part of the flu crew for more than a week now. Still can’t kick it. It’s a strange time, and brings on feelings of pure selfishness and self-pity unlike few other states. Being sick also seems to create infinite loops and obsessions while caught between sleep and wakefulness. I’ve spent more than a few recent nights thinking I had discovered deathless prose and wonderful scenes for my new novel, only to wake up to the light of reason and disappointment. It’s almost like being drunk, but without half the fun. Chicken soup does help the transition . . .


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