4 May 2020
On the occasion of publishing a brief collection of some of my older short stories-at the onset of the third decade of a century marked, so far, by our complete submission to market-driven technological distraction and surveillance-I am awash in a kind of nostalgia. Not for a better America. Not for my younger, healthier body and sharper memory, and not for the sweet innocence of my now eighteen-year-old daughter as an infant or toddler or opinionated eight-year-old.
