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Saki held his gaze, but Toru could see something retreat in her eyes, closing off. The fan slowly swung its head, back and forth, back and forth, just slightly stirring the air between them.

Yuko Sakata, “On This Side,” The Best American Short Stories 2016, ed. Junot Diaz

#retreat #friendship #fan #literature #fiction #short stories #Yuko Sakata #Junot Diaz

10.0--It was decided that her family could take better care of her while she recovered. She retreated back to her life with her parents and Adriana.

Yalitza Ferreras, “The Letician Age,” The Best American Short Stories 2016, ed. Junot Diaz

#family #volcano #yalitza ferreras #fiction #short stories #literature #junot diaz #retreat

"Me too," Daphne said. Did that mean, I too am glad you avoided that life? Or I'm glad I avoided that life myself?" Neither of them mentioned Mason. Daphne retreated to the room that had once been Hester's, which was where she always stayed, and Henrietta went to her own room and unpacked the parcel. First, she looked at the letter addressed to Daphne.

Andrea Barrett, “Wonders of the Shore,” The Best American Short Stories 2016, ed. Junot Diaz

#retreat #Andrea Barrett #letters #waves #ocean #friendship #Junot Diaz

As each wave retreats, little bubbles of air are plentiful in its wake. Underneath the sand, where each bubble rose, lives some creature. By the jet of water which spurts out of the sand, the common clam Mya arenaria reveals the secrete of its abiding-place. Only the lifting of a shovelful of sand at the water's edge is needed to disclose the populous community of mollusks, worms, and crustaceous living at our feet, just out of sight.

Andrea Barrett, “Wonders of the Shore,” The Best American Short Stories 2016, ed. Junot Diaz

#retreat #Andrea Barrett #clams #waves #ocean #junot diaz

I had been invited there to finish a chapter on William James. I was to do so in the company of eight other people working on interesting, improbably projects. The invitation had come as a great surprise to me and had a magical effect on my confidence. As soon as I set foot in the farmhouse, however, every thought and hope I had about William James flew out of my head, like a bit of charred paper up a chimney. He had been my companion for several months, and now he turned into a man I barely knew. His sudden disappearance made the days seem long. Soon I discovered that the pastimes I had always imagined I'd enjoy--such as dipping into newly published novels, and drifting off to sleep in the middle of the afternoon--left me with a stiff neck, as well as a feeling of dread.

Sarah Shun-Lien Bynum, “The Bears,” The Best American Short Stories 2016, ed. Junot Diaz