Emmy & Oliver

by Robin Benway

Sometimes I think that all superstitions—crossing your fingers, not stepping on cracks, shrines like the one in Oliver’s room—come from wanting something too much.

At least during an earthquake, you understand why you’re shaking.

That’s when I first learned about true frustration, that wrenching ache when the thing that matters most to you barely makes a ripple in other people’s lives.

“Sometimes love isn’t something you say, it’s something you do,”

“I told you, I’m a loyal friend. Kicking therapists, punching sharks, whatever it takes.”

The world continues to spin even when we want it to stop, I thought. Especially then.