I have little triggers for my depression, and it usually doesn’t take much—a financial setback, a sad story on the news, Tuesday—but the oddest one is probably missing letters and/or burned-out bulbs in store signs. I swear that 70 percent of the business signs in Undisclosed have partially broken signs due to the owners deciding it’s just not worth the cost to fix them. It’s a small thing, but it feels dystopian, like a civilization slowly going dark out of negligence.
