Every time summer vacation came round, the parents were in the habit of sending their two children to the country, far away from the bustle of the city. So every July, Julien and his little siste ... [+]
Originally published in Creative Nonfiction magazine's Sunday Short Reads series
I was still uncivilized. Among the Starbucks Wednesday morning commuters who awaited lattes while wearing ties, pencil skirts, and blowouts, I stood out. Air-dried hair frizzed from my head, baggy hiking pants hung off my skeletal frame, and instead of a purse I clutched a nylon stuff sack.I hadn't gone back to work yet after my 675-mile backpacking trip on the Appalachian Trail. In fact I didn't have a work since the whole point of my journey, cut short by a broken bone, had been to find my life's purpose. Reclaim the "squandered gifts" I had pretended to forget in favor of capitalism's charm