In that dilated moment after sunset when the sky holds all the light.

- David Wroblewski

She had learned, in her life, that time lived inside you. You are time, you breathe time. When she'd been young, she'd had an insatiable hunger for m…

- David Wroblewski

That mirror, that's one I hate to let go, he said. That was my daughter's the whole time she was growing up. It probably seen her more than me--every…

- David Wroblewski

Nothing is going to happen to me, or you, for that matter. Anything can happen, though. Anything can happen. But most always, just normal things happ…

- David Wroblewski

When she walked through the woods (infrequently now) she picked her way along the path, making way for the boy inside to run along before her. It cou…

- David Wroblewski

No one can say if you are that person who, given good paint, good brushes, and a fine canvas, can produce something better than the factory man. That…

- David Wroblewski

Just when normal life felt almost possible - when the world held some kind of order, meaning, even loveliness (the prismatic spray of light through a…

- David Wroblewski

It is as true for the writer as for the reader that any novel worth its ink should be an experience first and foremost—not an essay, not a statement,…

- David Wroblewski

Life was a swarm of accidents waiting in the treetops, descending upon any living thing that passed, ready to eat them alive. You swam in a river of …

- David Wroblewski