She ruined my life and all she can think about is wearing khaki. "They make you wear khaki jumpsuits," Mom says. "I look hideous in khaki." Mom, Dad, and I are parked in front of the Federal ... [+]
"You're in New England," the man in front of me said with a British accent, so my mind—which I knew was not running completely clearly—assumed he meant that we both were in a new version of England, post Brexit, post capitalism, post-combustible engine. Something like that."New England," I said to myself, considering the phrase. It sounded familiar, but how could the new already sound as though it were from the past? I was still leaning against the tree I had been against since gaining consciousness. Was this New England an ever-changing phenomenon, like some product repackaged—a mere shift in
