34 /365: stardust on the hood of your car
“Name the one moment that you knew, for whatever reason, you were going to be okay. Whatever happened to you, you just knew that you nothing could touch you.”
“That isn’t easy. I have to think about that.”
“It’s not supposed to be easy. You picked this game, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. Serves me right… okay. I think I’ve got it. Do you remember that time we went stargazing in Norfolk?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, that’s it. That’s the moment that I remember feeling untouchable.”
“What do you mean? How can you say that? We were two undetectable blips in the middle of space observing giant balls of gas trillions of times our size. Nothing should make you feel more temporary—changeable.”
I'm Grady, a recent graduate, wayward professional, and committed world citizen. Right now, I'm firmly planted in Massachusetts, where I'm figuring out my next move. Join me in my quest for social justice, a job that pays the bills, and a smooth coldpress.
