North Of | Marie-Helene Bertino
FEBRUARY 2, 2025
PAPERBACK | 4 x 6 | 48 PAGES | $15.00
978-1-954992-02-3
FICTION | SHORT STORY
There are American flags on school windows, on cars, on porch swings; it is the year I bring Bob Dylan home for Thanksgiving.
And as the American flags everywhere don’t let us forget: we’re not alone, when it comes to this kind of ongoing disappointment with ourselves and our loved ones:
What happens when someone in the family has to be worked around, like an unexploded bomb? What happens to your sense of your own achievements in terms of negotiating life, in the presence of a sibling who’s always seemed more gifted, and more powerful, and who has nevertheless refused to succeed? How do we justify what happiness we have found, in the face of the intractability of someone else’s misery?
FEBRUARY 2, 2025
PAPERBACK | 4 x 6 | 48 PAGES | $15.00
978-1-954992-02-3
FICTION | SHORT STORY
There are American flags on school windows, on cars, on porch swings; it is the year I bring Bob Dylan home for Thanksgiving.
And as the American flags everywhere don’t let us forget: we’re not alone, when it comes to this kind of ongoing disappointment with ourselves and our loved ones:
What happens when someone in the family has to be worked around, like an unexploded bomb? What happens to your sense of your own achievements in terms of negotiating life, in the presence of a sibling who’s always seemed more gifted, and more powerful, and who has nevertheless refused to succeed? How do we justify what happiness we have found, in the face of the intractability of someone else’s misery?
FEBRUARY 2, 2025
PAPERBACK | 4 x 6 | 48 PAGES | $15.00
978-1-954992-02-3
FICTION | SHORT STORY
There are American flags on school windows, on cars, on porch swings; it is the year I bring Bob Dylan home for Thanksgiving.
And as the American flags everywhere don’t let us forget: we’re not alone, when it comes to this kind of ongoing disappointment with ourselves and our loved ones:
What happens when someone in the family has to be worked around, like an unexploded bomb? What happens to your sense of your own achievements in terms of negotiating life, in the presence of a sibling who’s always seemed more gifted, and more powerful, and who has nevertheless refused to succeed? How do we justify what happiness we have found, in the face of the intractability of someone else’s misery?
