The Magic of Found Objects

by Maddie Dawson

we are looking around at Brooklyn the way Manhattanites always look at Brooklyn: like we’ve landed where dreams go to die.

grief is something you can get used to. You shrink it down, put it in your pocket, like a phone number scrawled on a piece of paper, and maybe after a while, you just leave it in your drawer and don’t carry it with you at all.

It takes character to live with the imperfect facts of your life and to change the things you can change, and to be willing to live with the things you can’t do anything about.