For the past few years J and I have lived next to a grocery store. It glows at night. If you listen you can hear the hum.
Nothing has ever happened that didn't make perfect sense.
Nothing yet anyway.
The Friday after the sexual assault hearing of future Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh, when we were all wondering if it mattered anymore what anyone said or did, I drove with a group of guys up into the Colorado mountains.
I wanted them to think that I'd developed some sort of heat resistant super power. "This?" I said. "This is nothing," even as sweat dripped down my forehead and into my eyes.
The source was unreliable. It's possible that I was the source.