Signal Fires

by Dani Shapiro

It isn’t misery that loves company—no, no. Happiness loves company, and misery—misery just wants to be left alone.

He caresses that word whenever he says it: normal, as if it were the end goal, the best way to be.

Here she has been so afraid, so busy trying to shore up and protect their lives that she has forgotten how to live.

The runners are out in full force, the middle-aged speed-walkers, the cyclists in their neon jerseys and colorful helmets. The hard-core among the runners gather at the top of a long and steep set of stairs. Some do uphill sprints with what appear to be their personal trainers. It’s a culture devoted to a kind of gluttony of health, or what they now call wellness.

Grief comes in waves. Like the swells crashing against the rocks, it gathers force and breaks when you least expect it.