The Gravity of Us

by Phil Stamper

New York has a way of making you feel at home, no matter where you’re at. You just have to step off the street, and some neighborhood will claim you as one of their own.

I laugh, knowing my mom would die with joy if she knew a teen honestly thought she was awesome.

Orpheus, son of Apollo.

“Not so hard if you refuse to think about it.

but to be fair, dads can make anything sound boring.

I leave the hat at home.

Thank fuck

One thing I don’t do is get out my phone. No one else gets to see this moment. It’ll never be in a history book. It’ll never be on the news, or in an issue of Time for future kids to point at and imagine what it was like to live in this moment, this time when—for one bright moment—everything was perfect.