In a way, I am both the luckiest and the unluckiest person in the world. I’m twenty-four, reasonably socialized, and have never experienced the pain of personal death. Sure, I’ve had distant uncles and grand-parents pass on, but no one I’ve felt genuinely close to. For that, I’m probably fortunate. However, each year, the gap between my inevitable experience with mortality and I has closed in, tighter and tighter, and as I write this, I am preparing to say goodbye to my best friend.
I met the Rat, formerly known as Snowball, when I was only seven. He was the size of a small cantaloupe and skated across the living room floor. Three months o...
In a way, I am both the luckiest and the unluckiest person in the world. I’m twenty-four, reasonably socialized, and have never experienced the pain of personal death. Sure, I’ve had distant uncles and grand-parents pass on, but no one I’ve felt genuinely close to. For that, I’m probably fortunate. However, each year, the gap between my inevitable experience with mortality and I has closed in, tighter and tighter, and as I write this, I am preparing to say goodbye to my best friend.
I met the Rat, formerly known as Snowball, when I was only seven. He was the size of a small cantaloupe and skated across the living room floor. Three months o...
In a way, I am both the luckiest and the unluckiest person in the world. I’m twenty-four, reasonably socialized, and have never experienced the pain of personal death. Sure, I’ve had distant uncles and grand-parents pass on, but no one I’ve felt genuinely close to. For that, I’m probably fortunate. However, each year, the gap between my inevitable experience with mortality and I has closed in, tighter and tighter, and as I write this, I am preparing to say goodbye to my best friend.
I met the Rat, formerly known as Snowball, when I was only seven. He was the size of a small cantaloupe and skated across the living room floor. Three months o...