I Am So Not A Throggmorton by Elizabeth Powell A bridge is an emblematic thing. And I am no longer scared of traversing bodies of water based on my trust of men fifty or 100 years ago hence to construct a magic carpet over the likes of Throggs Neck, the Hudson or wherever I find myself wanting and needing to get to the other side. A journey has two sides, supported by a long middle span that makes narratives come […]