the post calvin

Annaka b’Koach

She shakes her head once, before looking up back at me with holy certainty. “You have no idea who you are,” she declares.

I felt the grit on my teeth and imagined it in my lungs.

I never found out if the kid’s shenanigans were purposeful.

I’m not the only one desperate to find the lost episode.

Grog is like a heightened version of a scavenger hunt combined with freeze tag—all taking place in the dark

“You’ve got it the wrong way around,” I imagine Tolkien saying.

No one sits for hours at an information booth because it is their passion.

I think I’ve had to get good at making a home for myself where there was none before.

Beyond the walls, the infected lurk—zombies in all but name.

It was so sweet how you wanted to make me feel comfortable.