Dew captures the “violent ambivalence” of young people fearing their future, doubting their potential, and, as Martin describes, stylizing their “still-developing artifice”. His prose is simultaneously urgent and hesitant as his characters are desperate for connection but also terrified of what looms ahead.”
Autumn descends on Northern Ohio.
Here is how it happens:
With the sky split into layers of fiery late-afternoon light and clouds like lava over the hills, the melodrama of nature consumes the landscape.
The valleys beyond us blaze in amber and gold, a scene identical to the postcards in the rack by the cash register, ten cents apiece, three for a quarter.
There is a glint against the glass of the restaurant window, white light on fingerprints and greasy smears, a dried trail of ketchup.
But you are unfazed.
You squint toward the sun, the fringe along your jacket’s arms slapping as you pack your cigarettes against your palm.
You say, “Anesthesia.”
And you sigh, as if this were the last thing, sinking your reserves into a single act, to convey meaning through breath alone.
But isn’t it kind of early to start worrying about something like that,” I say. “I mean, she just conceived, right?”
That’s what I’m saying, kiddo. This early on and already talk of surgical removal, c-section, whatever the butchers call it. Cesarean.
There’s risk involved. I know how it is. People don’t come back, or they come back changed.”
You drag the candle over to your side of the booth, hold back your hair as you lean over the red glass dome and light your cigarette.