I am driving back from the plainness of a church, back down the way we came this morning for your funeral, back through and back into the world, back from where we had been collected into ourselves, hearing the dumb hooves of words, held by a damp, mizzling light there, stripped and reduced and freed. Each one of us—sharing like communion bread, what we share with you—a death. I am driving back through the light of an ordinary day as if on a flight, descending into the torn waste of it. It seems scrappy, dirty—the blown plastic wrapping, …
Subscribe to get access to all online articles
Already a member?
Sign in to read this article
Digital Subscription
$98 / YR
Get the latest ideas from Australia’s most insightful writers.
- Digital Subscription includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
Printed & Digital Subscription
$118 / YR
For avid readers of leading ideas
from Australia’s brightest.
- Printed & Digital Subscription includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
- Quadrant Patron includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
- All new editions of Quadrant Books
- Exclusive invitations to Quadrant Dinners, book launches and events.
- Quadrant Patron includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
- All new editions of Quadrant Books
- Exclusive invitations to Quadrant Dinners, book launches and events.