Found: On Fragility and Time
It was a bright but freezing day. My little beach was completely empty, so I walked alone, with my hood up and my head full of worries about the recent headlines. Politics, injustice, dissent, and prejudice ricocheted through my mind. I kicked stones and muttered angrily. I couldn't write. I didn't want to. It was high tide. The water was calm in contrast with my thoughts. When the water's high, there's usually nothing much to find. After all, it's the waves that leave treasure. People usually just leave trash. Nevertheless, as is often the case, it felt like the universe chose to drop me a sign. A few of them. All strange and troubling in their own ways. The first was a pair of scuffed and sea-washed sunglasses that read "Seattle" on one side and "Storm" on the other. This might have been a positive signal. The Seattle Storm are a women's basketball team and a damn fine one at that. But something about the glasses bothered me. I