January nights in New York have the kind of cold that breaks your breath. The wind blows down the avenue like a thin…

That winter, Wyoming was so cold that breath could shatter like glass. In the small town of Pine Hollow, the early February blizzard…

My name is Ellen Maynard, 34, an operations engineer for a solar company in the northern suburbs of Seattle. I live alone in…

Rain pattered outside the window, misting the glass, making the dining room seem like an old dream. My mother, Laura, was ladling soup,…

A week before her mother’s fifty-fifth birthday, Judith sat on the parquet floor of her living room, surrounded by a lovely battlefield: ivory-wrapped…

I still remember that evening – the scent of expensive perfume mixed with the scent of red wine and beef with mushroom sauce,…

In the heart of Manhattan, amid the glittering towers and river-like billboards, there is a restaurant called Celeste—a place where getting a table…

L’Arpeggio was on the forty-second floor of a glass tower, and the New York evening fell beneath him like a carpet of undulating…

I’ve never liked my mother-in-law’s kitchen. It’s too perfect: spotless white countertops, gallery-like cupboards, the same scent of beeswax and lavender year-round as…

New York in late autumn has a wind that cuts like needles, cutting through hair and chasing people into restaurants. Lily Morgan stood…