For the first few months, I was irritated by red notifications which bubbled up over my phone app like a rash. But over the years, it’s become a source of comfort.
Nonfiction
One Summer Morning
It was the first devastation I experienced in life, the first time I knew existence was temporary, even though I vaguely believed then in the conventional idea of a Protestant Christian afterlife, believed we all reunited as our conscious selves in eternity with the ones we love, sort of like in a vacation home rental somewhere.
Rescued
That first morning in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, in the summer of 2008, I opened the sliding screen door and stepped into my new backyard, my body buzzing with a combination of relief and uncertainty.