I related best to my siblings when we were shoulder to shoulder, yelling or cheering about pixels on a screen.
When we come together, we have the power to create what Parker calls “temporary alternative worlds.”
At the risk of trivializing everything else, one of the things that scares me most about the president is his refusal to admit to tiny mistakes.
But one day we started to tell the story, and as we heard it coming from our mouths we knew it meant the story was behind us, and we had lived through it.
Someday I think I’ll stay, and perhaps that will be the hardest choice of all.
When it is, in fact, your duty not to go anywhere, going to nowhere starts to look like going somewhere.
It’s been almost a month since I hopped on the 92 bus and sat next to my soccer teammate on the way to our game, both of us taking turns to explain why we’re running late this time.
No one has any idea what to do, and we’re all trying to use what we’ve got to make things work.
When confronted with a dozen or so unexpected snails, one faces questions of moral principle one never thought one would.
It’s tempting, as the writer, to make a trite connection here to challenges I have previously risen to (a potentially boring speech about crossword puzzles).