The Rumpus Interview with Alix Lambert
The lights flicked on but the audience was silent. The classmate sitting next to me wiped at mascara smudges. I gathered the small pile of damp, wadded Kleenex off my lap and stuffed them in my purse,...
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In the year since my father died my grief lost its fangs. One morning this summer, though, I awoke and could think of nothing but my father. As if Dad’s spirit put a spell on me, I craved his musty,...
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