The New Yorker · 18 Oct 2026
“Shortcut,” by Diane Mehta
I stretch the shortcut days with sound sashaying to the wind’s largesse, humming to bee buzz and the hoots, my lonely intervals, the hour’s echo, something understood; maybe this world sorrow will leave off but not yet, not here. I can’t stop crying. It is so starched out here, low notes and woodsmo
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