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Torn, by Daniel Kaysen (7/11/05)
"Well, how happy could I be? My wife died. I was a widower. I'm not even thirty. Excuse me for not dancing with joy. And excuse me for not being ecstatic at a hint of the afterlife. Life should be like a computer file. At the end, it gets deleted."
The Jenna Set, by Daniel Kaysen (3/14/05)
...and then if they say no you flip to page two and you ask them if it's the dinner or the oral sex that they have the problem with.
The Central Tendency, by Daniel Kaysen (7/21/03)
Lallie slowly showed me something better than numbers. Matrices and transformations, laws, proofs, operations. Every number has a million faces, but the million faces all line up and you can cancel them all out and just be left with abstractions, blank-faced letters alone at the heart of everything. Do not, ever, tell me there's no god.
. . . What a Spaceman's Gotta Do, by Daniel Kaysen, illustration by MAtt (2/3/03)
Trouble was, on the last day of high school I'd carefully and very publicly told everyone that in ten years' time I was going to be a famous writer, living in New York, married with no kids, skinny as a rake, and far too rich and successful to go to a reunion.