Rules for Visiting

by Jessica Francis Kane

Most people smile at small children, but you really don’t have to. They appreciate seriousness.

Midway through my fortieth year, I reached a point where the balance of the past and all it contained seemed to outweigh the future, my mind so full of things said and not said, done and undone, I no longer understood how to move forward. I was tipped backward and wobbly, my balance was off, and this made sense to me. A life seemed so long, I couldn’t see how anyone proceeded under the accumulated weight of it.

I have always assumed others have more and better friends.

Small talk is like improv comedy: rarely funny and always one sentence away from fizzling. When I must do it, clichés fill my head like a virus.

We live in a time when everyone gets a medal and all villains have heartbreaking backstories. No one thinks evil is intrinsic anymore, just someone making a really bad choice.