Long Island Compromise

by Taffy Brodesser-Akner

She tried to picture what her life would look like then, but she couldn’t. She could only see a blurred version of herself, indistinguishable from other blurred figures in a room, doing the same small thing, and hoping it would amount to something. That was the problem. It all felt so small. Every single option felt like it would just lead to the life of an automaton. She didn’t much believe in fate or destiny—it was too easy to go from that belief into fully hopping on the superstition trauma carousel with her family—but she did think that it would be folly to take the opportunity she’d been given, meaning the money, and do something small. It wasn’t quite her goal to pretend she didn’t come from where she came from; no, the question was, for her, what would she be if she hadn’t? If she could answer that, she could perhaps begin to remediate some of the damage her family had done in the world. Plus, there would be the added bonus of direction for, you know, her life.