Down the milky corridors of fog, starless scenery, the rubble of ocean's breath, that lone figure strolling, gathering about him without shame a small flood of damages, concessions to a frailty that was his long before he knew what he must do or what he must be, and now, with his hand outstretched as if to greet the future, he comes close and pours out to me the subtlety of his meaning, and I see him, my long-lost uncle, great and golden in the sudden sunlight, who predicted that he would reach over the years and be with me and that I would be waiting.
Patty Murray Should Be the Next Senate Minority Leader The Washington senator is a better choice than Elizabeth Warren or Chuck Schumer.
Inside Higher Ed
Fighting Words? A professor compared Hamas to a rabid pit bull. Free speech couldn’t protect him from student vitriol.
What Happened at Slate This Week? Alison Griswold describes her experience reporting on the Germanwings tragedy.
Even Lufthansa’s Exhaustive Psychiatric Tests Couldn’t Have Stopped a Tragedy Like the Germanwings Crash