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The Sun Magazine

Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Dignity And Other Staples

Eating In The Soup Kitchens Of Seattle

On my rounds of the soup kitchens, I learned more than fine distinctions among bad foods. I learned the patience engendered by interminable waiting. I learned the deferential glance, a useful grace that gets one past the guards unchallenged.



I liked my truck. I liked to put all my blocks in the back and cart them from room to room. But I loved Merry’s doll.


Fatima remembers the infant eyes closing against the first handfuls of dirt. She stopped moving almost immediately, as if the sheerest blanket of earth were too heavy.

Without Cost Or Obligation

We went past the Allied checkpoint, past the American, the Brit, and the Frenchman, past the sign in more languages than we could read — YOU ARE NOW LEAVING THE AMERICAN SECTOR.

In The War-Torn Heart Of The House

Bucky, it’s Tuesday, May 9. I’m in the records vault using the old IBM to hammer this one out to you, my dictaphone account of how it went the last night at our house and about my return to Trent (still minimum security).

*NOTE: Original copies of this issue are no longer available. Unbound, laser-printed copies will be provided for print orders.

Readers Write


Having a room of one’s own, eating compulsively, scribbling

Personal Stories By Our Readers ▸


What is uttered from the heart alone will win the hearts of others to your own.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

More Quotations ▸
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