From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Tactile
My palms are sweating against the rough polyester of my windbreaker as I scan the headlines about Israel; it feels like the whole world is ready to snap while gas prices just keep creeping up. I’m white-knuckling the last thirty dollars in my pocket, praying it’s enough to secure one of those Cabbage Patch Kids before the store shelves are picked clean by desperate parents. The soft, dimpled vinyl of the doll’s face feels like a fortune I can’t afford, and when the clerk tries to upsell me on a protection plan, I just scoff, “Whatcha talkin' 'bout, Willis?” I just need to get this home before the nightly news confirms my worst fears about the draft.