History Is All You Left Me

by Adam Silvera

I’m like a coin constantly f lipping—heads, tails, heads, tails, heads, tails, heads, tails—like someone tossed me into the air to settle something once and for all but didn’t catch me, and now I’m falling into an abyss, unable to see what will come up when I land.

“Some people know a lot about a little, others know a little about a lot.”