Portrait of the Writer as a (No Longer) Young Man

               50. Oof. It’s here. I didn’t believe it would actually arrive, or rather, I’d hoped it wouldn’t. I guess I’d hoped to stay in some sort of liminal space, not dying but not getting any older, either. Of course, that option is denied to us, and in that, I am not special.                And now that it’s here, I feel … fine? I did not, upon waking on the […]

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