On “The Hunger of Women”

The period, of all the punctuation marks, might be the most existential. Lurking behind that small dark dot floating so innocently, so unobtrusively on the page, lies an entire ethos of pause, of abbreviation, full stops and declarative statements. Grammatically, a period signals the end of something: quite literally, it’s the end of the sentence. The end of the thought. The end of the breath, when read aloud. An air of finality: hidden within every period is the trace of death.

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