Split Ends

Last week in AP Comp, the piece "Split Ends" by Jesse Shulman, age 17 (located on page 110 of the PDF) really caught my eye. It's a witty and charming little romance, but sections of this story are devastatingly raw.

"I felt like a rocket man because astronauts' tears hang in zero gravity and stay there, like memories, floating, drifting. In space, if you want to get rid of tears before they seep into the wiring and the ship sparks apart, you stick them in Tupperware. You hide them until one day there are too many and the box bursts."

Shulman's zany vignettes, existential quandaries, and fluid musings reminded me of Jonathan Safran Foer's masterful way of depicting relationships. It's the reason he's one of my favorite authors.

While reading "Split Ends,"  "Classic Water" by David Berman, one of my all-time favorite poems, came to mind.Through fragmented memories and fervid flashbacks, Berman articulates the same message Shulman does in "Split Ends:"

"No one deserves to be called what's-his-face."

How strange it is to lose a friend--yet even stranger to remember. Shulman was right: you can't breed mammoths back to life. But you can try. If only in your mind.