You Can't Catch Me

by Catherine McKenzie

Nothing makes an internet misogynist angrier than a woman making money off the misdeeds of another man.

I’ll never truly understand my mother. But she did give me the gift of anger. It has a way of focusing you that forgiveness can’t.

I look out over the view. I remember too many things, but mostly I remember what I can’t forget.

“We return thee to the earth from whence all things came,” I find myself saying, an old incantation the kids used to chant in imitation of Todd when our pet mouse or cat would die, and we’d sneak away to bury it. “Find peace there, and know that ye will be remembered.”

People always say that it’s bad to keep secrets, that they corrode trust. But I don’t think that’s true. It’s knowing there are secrets that you’ll never have access to that rubs away at us.