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Daddy Drinks

I gave my dad a whiskey flask for Christmas. He laughed. He’s never had a taste for whiskey. But because I gave it to him, he treasured it. He brought it to work and showed it off, trying to hide the proud pucker of his smile. It had my school crest on it. When I was small, I would be jealous of my cousin (a ...

Atar Hadari on Daniel A. Nicholls

The title of "hearth gods" leads you to expect knick-knacks, pottery, painted things—the sort of idols people have stationed around a fireplace, but what the first line gives you with its demotic, un-capitalized evocation of grandparents as “gram and pop” is a child’s voice, definitely a child’s ungrammatical and evocative ...

hearth gods

gram and pop have been so long, it’s hard to imagine that they’ve gone, no longer rocking in their chairs, knitting or napping, jawing there. when mom and dad finally split, they stowed us with them in week-long visits, and gram was stone-silent, while pop came to crackle, roaring with talk. he’d built the entire ...