Out in the world, no one sleeps. No one, no one.
No one sleeps.
—Federico García Lorca, "Sleepless City (Brooklyn Bridge Nocturne)"
Madrid 2007. Sometime after 3 am. In six hours, I'll be
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She didn't think herself a racist. She'd had black school friends, worked with black women at the restaurant, and watched Oprah daily.
But when her seven-year-old, white daughter brought home a
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Tonight, like most nights, James Shelby woke in the small hours and listened to the silence.
He pulled on his robe, went to the kitchen, and made tea.
Moving quietly so as to not disturb the
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