This boy is covered in shades of dirt and sweetly sweated grime, carrying a tiny slug on his index finger before tucking it into his shirt pocket for safe keeping. This boy wraps a bag of flour in a blanket and fiercely defends his baby against smaller hands, he crys…

I picked her up at the airport, hollow, practically deserted. “She has Alzheimer’s.” They quickly gave me a pass to meet her at the gate. Calling a sweetheart while I wait, wishing to be drunk. She arrives 80, but girlish, looking happy, lucid and giddy. It’s so easy when she’s…