The Measure

by Nikki Erlick

Ben tried to concentrate on the floor plans in front of him, but instead he thought only of his own opened box, and the short string inside that had been lying in wait.

One thing was instantly, sickeningly clear: Maura’s string was barely half the length of Nina’s.

As they read together, Nina developed a habit of pridefully pointing out any typos she found in a published book, which never failed to annoy Amie. She always wished that her sister could just let go and lose herself in the story.

Did a patient receive less care because her string was short, or was a patient’s string short because she received less care?

garden in which many inhabitants had eaten the apple, while the rest remained too scared to bite.

watched a lot of people come to the end, and everyone around them kept begging them to fight. It takes real strength to keep on fighting, and yes, usually that’s the right answer. Keep fighting, keep holding on, no matter what. But sometimes I think we forget that it also takes strength to be able to let go.”

“There are going to be some changes,” Anthony said. “But the people like us will be just fine.”

Security and Transparency in Appointing and Recruiting Initiative, or the “STAR” Initiative for short.

“My guess is that short-stringers looking to adopt are like the new gay couples,”

“We segment ourselves based on race or class or religion or whatever fucking distinctions we decide to make up, and then we insist on treating each other differently. We never should have allowed them to start labeling people as ‘long-stringers’ and ‘short-stringers.’ We made it too easy for them.”

“Nobody seems to care that we all look the same when we’re open on a table.”

“Do you think I did something to put myself in this chair? Or any of the people in this room did something to shorten their strings?” “No, of course not,” said Nihal. “Then why should you view yourself with any less compassion?”

But surely the chaos didn’t feel so chaotic if you believed it was part of God’s plan.

A number would destroy all of that. It would ground her. She simply had to live her life in oblivion, as if her string were somehow infinite. It was the only way she knew how.

“Sì, sì. Their priorities. But, in Italy, I think we already knew. We already put the art first, the food first, the passion first,” she explained, a sweep of her arm encompassing the entire shop. “And we already put the family first. We did not need the strings to tell us what is most important.”

Se il per sempre non esiste lo inventeremo noi. Her forehead scrunched, her brain searching for the words. “If forever doesn’t exist,” she said, “we’ll invent it ourselves.”

Ben realized, then, that Claire never once touched him when she told him the truth that night. It was quite shocking, in retrospect. She had squeezed her arms around herself, trying to hold herself steady. But Ben’s parents didn’t care about themselves, not right now. They cared only about their son.

“Before the strings arrived, that was the chance anyone took when they got married, or when they had kids. There was no guarantee. But you still vowed in sickness and in health, not knowing which one you’d get, and you still promised till death do us part, with no idea when that parting would occur.” Nina paused. “But now that we have the strings, suddenly the risk that every couple used to accept has become so unimaginable?”

“That’s not how I meant it,” Maura said. “I just think this rally could be really important.” “And our wedding isn’t important?” “Of course it is!” Maura exclaimed. “But today is really just about a party. This rally is about … my life.” “And it pains me, knowing what you have to deal with,” Nina said. “But you’re already doing so much with your group. And you’ve gone to protests before. Maybe it’s okay for you to take one day off and enjoy the other aspects of your life.” Maura

the fault not in himself but in his stars.

“We humans have an impulse to mark our existence in some way that feels permanent. We scribble ‘I was here’ onto our desks at school. We spray-paint it on walls. We carve it into bark. I was here. I wanted this sculpture to do the same, to let it be known that these people lived. A testament to the fact that these humans—with their long strings and medium strings and short strings—they were here.”

It was an entire, wonderful tale in and of itself, and even though I’ve been given more chapters than Maura, her pages were the ones you couldn’t put down. The ones that I’ll keep rereading, over and over, for the rest of my life. Our decade together, our story, was a gift.”

He would sometimes question her cautiousness, insisting that their children, Willie and Midge, were indeed ready to take off the training wheels.