Category Archives: Indiana
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t contemplate the busted door as a sign from God that I should stay home, but I brushed that off right quick.
So here I now find myself, a year later, not with a record of instances—some long calendar of thresholds met and surpassed by Jes and me and Toph—but with the accretion of slow change.
I was suddenly aware of everything: the squelch of the slider door’s rubber seal releasing as my brother came in from the yard. The creak and crash of the screen door to the garage behind my dad.
It can exist in its difficulty without any dressing up and still be deserving of love.