The Crate in the Parking Lot
Page after page after page of children telling somebody what happened that week.
Teddy said, somewhere in the second evening, holding about nine of them: “We weren’t writing to Mom.
We were just — writing it down.
To somebody.”
And Solveig said, “Yeah, because Dad was at work.”
She said it completely without malice.
She was twenty and she was sitting on a kitchen floor and it was an observation about a logistical fact from 2014.
It went through me like a nail.
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