deflection of her eyes,

and fell in love with her. This was unusual. He had not been in love with anyone in twelve years.

But this wasn’t that. It wasn’t J.B.F. asking herself did he interrupt me because I’m a woman? They were past all of that now. This was her asking herself did he interrupt me because the president of the United States doesn’t matter anymore?

The term began to gain traction on Twitter, with hashtag #BUM.

“Those of us who are going to live,” Dinah said, “have to start living by our own lights.”

matter. Seeing her, talking to her, makes you feel bad. And at some level, your brain wants the thing that makes you feel bad to go away. Simplest reaction in the world. Doesn’t make you a bad person. Doesn’t mean you have to give in to it.”

her eyes went momentarily out of focus as her brain decoded the dots and dashes into a string of letters and numbers:

Their reporters stood in pools of light, using as backdrop an open green strewn with telescopes of various types and sizes. Little seven-card decks were handed out, each card depicting a different fragment of the moon from various angles and identifying it by its name. Kids were given the assignment to identify each of the rocks through the eyepiec

valedictory