How We Are Hungry - Stories

Stories

  • "Another"
  • "What It Means When a Crowd in a Faraway Nation Takes a Soldier Representing Your Own Nation, Shoots Him, Drags Him from His Vehicle and Then Mutilates Him in the Dust," originally published in The Guardian
  • "The Only Meaning of the Oil-wet Water," originally published in Zoetrope All-Story
  • "On Wanting to Have Three Walls up Before She Gets Home," originally published in The Guardian
  • "Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance," originally published in The New Yorker in a slightly different form as "Measuring the Jump"
  • "She Waits, Seething, Blooming," originally published in The Guardian
  • "Quiet"
  • "Your Mother and I," originally published in h2s04
  • "Naveed," originally published in The Guardian
  • "Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone," originally published in another form in Ninth Letter
  • "About the Man Who Began Flying After Meeting Her," originally published in The Guardian
  • "Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly," originally published in McSweeney's #10
  • "There Are Some Things He Should Keep to Himself"
  • "When They Learned to Yelp"
  • "After I Was Thrown in the River and Before I Drowned," originally published in Speaking with the Angel

Read more about this topic:  How We Are Hungry

Famous quotes containing the word stories:

    Every one of my friends had a bad day somewhere in her history she wished she could forget but couldn’t. A very bad mother day changes you forever. Those were the hardest stories to tell. . . . “I could still see the red imprint of his little bum when I changed his diaper that night. I stared at my hand, as if they were alien parts of myself . . . as if they had betrayed me. From that day on, I never hit him again.”
    Mary Kay Blakely (20th century)

    I found that they knew but little of the history of their race, and could be entertained by stories about their ancestors as readily as any way.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)

    No record ... can ... name the women of talent who were so submerged by child- bearing and its duties, and by “general housework,” that they had to leave their poems and stories all unwritten.
    Anna Garlin Spencer (1851–1931)