Station Eleven

by Emily St. John Mandel

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” Gil said, breaking an impasse. “I believe the evening calls for fairies.”

“I’m talking about these people who’ve ended up in one life instead of another and they are just so disappointed. Do you know what I mean? They’ve done what’s expected of them. They want to do something different but it’s impossible now, there’s a mortgage, kids, whatever, they’re trapped.

“No,” Dahlia said, “because I think people like him think work is supposed to be drudgery punctuated by very occasional moments of happiness, but when I say happiness, I mostly mean distraction.

First we only want to be seen, but once we’re seen, that’s not enough anymore. After that, we want to be remembered.