his Jheri-curled Afro shimmering in the light.

Is this what it means to get older, replaying happy memories because the best times are behind you?

As if you couldn’t be serious about something and still enjoy it. As if being young meant being foolish.

wish I didn’t have to choose. A recurring wish she’d had these last few weeks and one she made again now, unaware that every granted wish comes with a hidden cost, every blessing shadowed with a curse.

Conversation was minimal during the drive to Manhattan; instead, they watched the city skyline. The cold made the buildings gleam like they were made of gemstones, and the resurrected Twin Towers filled Oona with sad wonder. Up to the West Side, to the edge of Central Park. The car pulled up to a red awning surrounded by trees wrapped in a multitud

vehemence.

Every leap will have its advantages and disadvantages, things you’ll gain and lose—relationships, youth, modern conveniences, etc. No year will be perfect. But I do think this year will be better if you have a little more love in your life. And boy, does Crosby love you (and vice versa). I hope you can make things work with him. Please try.

She pushed her way through the masses like a dull needle piercing stiff fabric. A new noise filled the space: electronic beeps and a clanging of metal on metal joined by a bass and drums. As she wove an escape path, the frenzy surrounding her grew. Dancing limbs were new obstacles to maneuver. “Excuse you!” someone shouted when she accidentally elb

Oona’s eyes drooped, her chin dipped to her chest, and the letter slipped from her fingers as she fell asleep.