Note: I'm re-posting this April 13, 2017 essay after deleting several superfluous passages. I haven't updated it in any way, except for an endnote, so that the feeling of that time and the fear it implies for 2020 remain intact. To demonstrate

Thursday evening two weeks ago, I had an upsetting experience with my writers' group. No one said anything deliberately hurtful, and there was no horrible argument. The members are generous in spirit and with their constructive comments. Knowing I

Ever noticed how we can't complain without giving each other advice? "The way I'm eating in this pandemic, I'm going to turn into a beached whale." — Don't you exercise? — "Like I told you, I have a stationary bike." — Oh right, what you

Antonia, a warm, famously doe-eyed woman in her thirties, was one of three receptionists at my former law office. Their long desk was in an area accessible to members of the public, while the rest of us worked safely behind code-locked doors. We

On Easter Sunday, a neighbor sent me the following email: Just wanted to let you know that [my husband] came down with little sniffles yesterday. We thought it may be just allergies, but it didn’t go away after he took his allergy meds. He doesn’t

My intrepid friend, Neil, likes to read books about intrepid adventurers. Subscribers to this blog have met Neil (not his real name) before in my account of an awkward party. Late one Saturday afternoon last month, he headed to the pub to finish