Potash Feldspar woke up and looked at the time. There, glowing brighter as the day progressed, the information projected on the closed drapes read 8:01AM. 58 degrees Fahrenheit. Hanetz at 8:45AM. His tired old eyes widened slowly and he rolled over to see his wife lying next to him, still sound asleep. Mr. Feldspar got dressed and put on his watch, which synced effortlessly to the drapes and his vitals came on screen. “Modeh Ani L’fanechah” he began to recite to himself.
If it’s not fun or easy, then it’s hard, and if it’s hard, then who wants to try?
All this is hard. As much as I wish I could be soft with myself and understanding and even compassionate, I can be excruciatingly mean.
Elizabeth reflects on the whirlwind experience of a funeral, the challenge of processing an event in the moment, and the things we rely on to keep going
I don't learn or grow from rejection. Can I reject rejection entirely? Do I want to?
Elizabeth feels young and old at the same time.
This world's logistics overwhelm me. Appointments, lunch dates: aaaah! But usually, I get by. Me being me, it all feels kind of mystical.
Excluded from special help as a young student, I—and many others—should get it in adulthood.