Trauma as Inheritance – The Rumpus
Sometimes I think of footprints. The imprints of dinosaurs. Tyrannosaurus Rex, huge steps that once sent tremors through the earth, now sit silent, petrified. I think of footprints at a murder scene. Work boots, their impressions left in mud, betraying the identity of a killer.
Read my review of Adam P. Frankel’s The Survivors on The Rumpus
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