
Grandma — not a fan of apocalyptic fiction — used to say “The world ends once for each of us.”
I only wish she was right.
The world has ended several times for me now, and then… I pick up my boots and build it again. (Note I’m sleepy and still weird-jet-like-lagged enough I almost typed “pick up my boobs.)
Look, the world ended for me when I left the village to go to high school in the city. It was a different world, and my past assumptions no longer applied. Then I became an excha...
Published on October 10, 2024 13:36