Let's Go Play at the Adams'

by Mendal W. Johnson

The hopeless, alien strangeness of another complete, isolated human being, another person—the other person—engulfed her. She did not think it in words, but the feeling chilled her nonetheless: we are not alike. The way I think is not the way he thinks. What works for me doesn’t work for him at all. He’s other. I’m other to him.