It’s been a while since I read anything by David Bezmozgis, though I really enjoyed what I read from him around the time his debut novel Free World came out in 2011. He was named one of The New Yorker’s 20 Under 40 in 2010, and since Free World he has published another novel (The Betrayers, 2014) and another short story collection (Immigrant City, 2019). I’m afraid I have read neither, though I’d like to get to them. First, though, this relatively long short story, “From, To.” Here is how it begins:

At ten o’clock on a Wednesday night, he gets a call from his aunt’s number. It’s late to get a call from his aunt, but his mother is often with his aunt, and it’s not unusual for her to call at that hour. But it’s his aunt on the line, her voice pained, then disintegrating.

And that’s it; he feels a plummet and a deletion commensurate with the space his mother occupied in his life. Nothing will fill it. He knows this from his father’s death. He’ll go around with another amorphous blank, until he himself becomes one in the consciousnesses of his children.

I think that’s a pretty strong opening. If you read the story and have thoughts, please share them below!