« Jennifer Egan Attacks A Big Mac | Main | R.I.P Dick Martin »



I often miss Winona, my home town as well as yours. Reading your post makes me miss it even more. For many years since I left, I wanted to return to Winona to live. Now that that has become increasingly unlikely, the town and my infrequent visits there have become more important and poignant.


I haven't set foot in the U.S. since August, so I had a lot of warm feelings about this post. Ah.


Those first two photos made me think of that wonderful story you wrote last year.


I had a dream once, shortly after graduating from college and moving away to take a teaching job, that my parents had rented out my old bedroom to some high school kid. (Remember my old third-story attic room?) Why a high school kid needed to live in my room was unclear, but when I came home to visit, this kid, who was otherwise normal, sat at our supper table and ate with my family. And because our table only comfortably seated six, I consented to eat in the living room. As I sat eating and watching television, I could hear my family conversing in the next room in a generally normal way, but with a strange voice included. This is how I feel every time I go back to Winona.


That's precise in the way that only dreams are precise.

The comments to this entry are closed.

iPhoning It In

  • www.flickr.com

The Concise Narcissist

    follow me on Twitter

    You Are Here: About Unprintable Version

    • I’m an actual advertising writer and aspiring fiction writer and memoirist. Unprintable Version combines my reading notebooks, thoughts on writing, and tiny essays about my life as a guy from Winona living in Minneapolis-Saint Paul. As an American, I am obligated to share my thoughts on movies, TV shows, music, and graphic design.