Statement of Record

AuthorAndrea Scrima

all about love, nearly

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by Andrea Scrima

I know the tidal pull of the blood; that a mere glance can send plumes of fire curling through the nerves. After J. arrived: the sudden, mind-controlling molecular saturation of pheromones in the air, a maddening inability to concentrate, to think of anything at all. Intoxication, situational insanity, delusion. An attraction so fierce it made...

Nico Joana Weber: The Jungle in Architecture

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by Nico Joana Weber

Nevertheless, something like a baleful pollen in the air—a ghost pollen, impalpable rot, enveloping decay—suddenly became active with mysterious design, opening what was closed, closing what was open, upsetting calculations, contradicting specific gravity, making guarantees worthless. 

EXCERPTS FROM AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION OF ERIKA BURKART 

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translated by Andrea Scrima

Every person is his secret. If you take this away from him, his integrity is ruined. Human beings cannot live without secrets. These manifest early in the secretiveness of a child who guards his hidden “treasures,” who has his secret language and secret writing, who communicates in signs and drawings.

PANDORA’S CHILDREN

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By Andrea Scrima

I only realized in hindsight how close she'd come to killing me. One day, how many years later was that, I suddenly had to think—and how long had it been since either of them had crossed my mind—of course, of course, she was pondering it all the while, imagining sending me sailing straight off the cliff with one good, hard push...

SISTERS

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by Andrea Scrima

Can you imagine if you were someone else? I used to think about that a lot, that it could be just as natural to be gazing down at a completely different big toe—I mean, the toe I'd be seeing would seem normal to me, because that toe and not this one, the one I'm looking at right now, would have been the only big toe I'd have ever known as my own. As though it weren't too...

Statement of Record

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