I do not wish to have not been a parent. But I think it is normal to imagine new existences when the world is crumbling.
Very Hungry Caterpillar
More in this series
In the battered barbershop chair, Faris sits slightly camouflaged and crumpled, as though he is a mystery even to himself.
On the heels of my diagnosis, I feel there is no way to construct a narrative around what’s happening to me—a deep betrayal for a writer.