The Orphanage for Words documents the unsaid, what is forgotten, spoken long ago, means nothing anymore. The bad, bad poetry of first love. Old yellowing letters at the bottom of a trunk. Words that jam your hands on the steering wheel long after the lights turn green. Lies men tell women to get them into bed, lies women tell the men they cheat. An old man holding his wife's hand in dementia. The un-golden silence of silences. Poetic and haunting, these stories sum up the fleeting nature of emotions, about how deep they run for the time they do