Those Snowy Nights You Read to Me, They'll Never Be Forgotten
A podcast by Soren Narnia

Categories:
21 Episoade
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Little Boy Games
Publicat: 11.07.2023 -
The Angle of the Light
Publicat: 01.02.2021 -
In the Realm of the Eight Dollar Soda
Publicat: 05.03.2020 -
Town With a Tranquil Name
Publicat: 30.10.2019 -
Tyrant, Draw Thy Sword
Publicat: 19.09.2018 -
If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking
Publicat: 08.02.2018 -
Joke Meets Ground
Publicat: 13.08.2017 -
Three Stories for a Rainy Sunday Afternoon
Publicat: 13.07.2017 -
Bride, Groom, Sunday, Forever
Publicat: 20.02.2017 -
An Oral History of Hell
Publicat: 12.09.2016 -
Whatever You Find Within You
Publicat: 09.04.2016 -
Objects Found in a Faraway Field
Publicat: 01.02.2016 -
The Tears of Sisyphus
Publicat: 02.11.2015 -
Toward the Close of November
Publicat: 24.09.2015 -
New Players Welcome Here
Publicat: 31.08.2015 -
Song of the Living Dead
Publicat: 27.07.2015 -
Sketch of a Bird in Flight
Publicat: 01.06.2015 -
3:13 a.m.
Publicat: 01.05.2015 -
Loft
Publicat: 12.04.2015 -
Signs Pass By
Publicat: 28.03.2015
Works written and produced by Soren Narnia. The text of these stories is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA. Email: [email protected] -- When I was in the fourth grade, my teacher asked me to sit next to a handicapped kid named Sean and help him along a little if I could. It wasn't easy, because he was quite slow, but I tried. When Sean got especially excited about something, or if he was told he had done something well, he would smile and shout out nonsense words. One of them I remember, which he used to shout many times over the few months I sat beside him, was "Sorinarneeya!" Again and again, it was a harmless word he used when he was happy, and seeing my puzzled expression would just make him say it once more, even more pleased than the first time: "Sorinarneeya!" For some reason that word stuck with me for years, until one day as an adult I realized how neatly and curiously it cut in half. And I thought that was so perfect, how this little gem of a thing had sprung from a bit of the absurd and a bit of the tragic. That seemed like all of life to me: momentary bits of perfection out of all the absurdity and tragedy. And amazingly, they just keep on coming. - SN