The Paris Review

A Story for Your Daughters, a Story for Your Sons

REBECCA MAKKAI

The war had closed much of the city, cut off many of the smaller towns. Unable to trace his usual routes, the hat merchant headed into the mountains to try his luck. His father, before he died, had circled a small mountain village on his map, had noted that the trading was good but the trip took two difficult days. Indeed, the snaking road narrowed fast, and the bridge was down to splinters so his horse had to wade to the knees.

Near sunset of the first day, long after the road had turned to an overgrown path, the merchant passed a plain young woman milking a cow. She asked him into her farmhouse for bread and brandy but never turned

You’re reading a preview, subscribe to read more.

More from The Paris Review

The Paris Review19 min read
The Beautiful Salmon
I’ve always loved salmon. Not to eat, as I don’t eat fish, but I’ve always loved salmon in general because salmon jump and no one knows why. They jump all over the place—out of rivers, up waterfalls. Some say they jump to clean their gills. Others sa
The Paris Review1 min read
Tourmaline
is a stone some sayhelps put a feverish childto sleep and othersclaim it wakes actorsfrom the necessarytrance of illusion to become themselves again it comes in many colorslike the strange redstone set into the Russian imperial crowneveryone thoughtw
The Paris Review1 min read
Passages
Chris Oh began making art as a child in Portland, Oregon, copying pictures from encyclopedias and taking inspiration from the plants and rocks his parents brought home from hikes. After graduating from New York’s School of Visual Arts in 2004, he too

Related