cancer country
Have I shared my small fantastical idea that there is a parallel universe so close it sometimes feels like I could just take a step to the left and be back on that path, or open my eyes quickly in the morning and catch a glimpse of the other world, the world from before last summer, a universe where I hum merrily on my way, and I don't have cancer, and Hillary Clinton is president, and we don't have to ever realize that it is much worse than we imagined, over here where I have stage four cancer and Donald Trump is president. I feel so close to that Tracy--I can picture her waking up wearily at 4:30 in the morning to answer emails and make pancakes and adjust her black dress and slide into the old, black Honda to steal through the quiet, dark woods of Carlisle and Concord until suddenly she joined Route 2 and was on her way, into Boston, into her office, where she sat in her office and talked, really, for a living. Oh sure, there were PowerPoints and bullet pointed memorandum,