You’ve seen them at dusk, walking along the shore, seen them standing in doorways, leaning from windows, or straddling the slow moving edge of a shadow. Lovers of the in-between, they are neither here nor there, neither in nor out. Poor souls, they are driven to experience the impossible. Even at night, they lie in bed with one eye closed and the other open, hoping to catch the last second of consciousness and the first of sleep, to inhabit that no man’s land, that beautiful place, to behold as only a god might, the luminous conjunction of nothing and all.
“You Can Call Me Laura” Here are L.V. Anderson’s favorite reads from Slate this week, from #teamweasel to the discovery of thiamin.
It Took a Horrible Wasting Disease—and Lots and Lots of Chickens—for Scientists to Discover Vitamins