Here's the evidence:
Because of a Dirty Rag: Age 6 Your eldest daughter, Morgan, bends over the circular glass dining table, Windex in hand. Her russet brown hair is kept tidy in a ponytail. Her big brown eyes stare back at her, reflected by the transparent table. She pumps the lever of the Windex and waits anxiously as... Continue Reading →
By October, life has grown slow, as if I woke up one day on my belly, reborn slug. I find myself struck with grief at random moments in the day; I’m suddenly incapacitated by the decision of what to eat for lunch. Standing still until I’m sobbing, in the middle of the kitchen, head hung,... Continue Reading →
“You did it! I saw you push it!” My neighbor hissed at me. I was accused of pushing over her pink bicycle, which I had no recollection of doing. Perhaps her shrill voice had caused me to black out and in that state I had spitefully knocked over her bike, but I don’t believe I... Continue Reading →
PART I While watching Bo Burnham’s comedy special, Make Happy, you first encounter the question: “Are you happy?” Amidst the melancholy of his piano Bo asks you “on a scale from one to zero, are you happy?” You never really thought about it. Am I happy? Do I need to know now? But because you’re... Continue Reading →
Connor Writes 