From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Tactile
The humidity makes my low-rise cargo pants feel heavy and damp against my skin, but I can’t stop checking the news on the TV at the deli; all these peeps are just going about their day while North Korea builds fuel for bombs. I stare at the shelf where a single loaf of white bread now costs $1.03, and the digits on the sticker feel like they’re burning a hole in my pocket. Every time I touch the slick, cold plastic of the Robosapien on the counter, my fingers twitch with the jittery rhythm of that Beyoncé song blaring overhead. The world feels like it’s stretching thin, from the rising cost of groceries to the terrifying headlines, and I’m just trying to hold it together.