Out East: Memoir of a Montauk Summer

by John Glynn

But Montauk, the beach town at the end of Long Island, nodded toward adventure, connection. A delayed pursuit of more adult concerns.

Even at five I was thinking about the mystic connection one could discover in another. The idea that you could travel through life with someone seemed to me like the zenith of happiness.

I kept my head down, avoiding the mirror. Sometimes the sight of my reflection kicked up a feeling of disappointment so intense that it overshadowed any excitement around me. One glance could sink me into a pool of dread. I’d inspect my reflection and ask myself the same question over and over. How is this me?

I had a nickname for Shane when he got like this. I called him Shunt. A pretty self-explanatory portmanteau.