pain
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Some things shouldn’t change. My first job was one that did. Last week, I posted this piece on Medium. I wrote it last semester for Advanced Creative Writing and have been holding onto it, waiting to be sure I wasn’t returning to my old job and wanting to be careful about where I shared it
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Read last week’s post here or view all other New York City posts. You can’t know who you are until you leave everything you’ve ever known. Not because being in an unfamiliar place surrounded by unfamiliar people brings you to some basic, almost neanderthal form of yourself. Not because everything new and strange helps you realize the person
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The first time I went to New York City, I moved there for four months. In the distant future, I’ll say this to nieces, nephews, aspiring writers, and possibly children of my own. They’ll be in the middle of making big decisions, trying to decide whether to play it safe or step out of everything
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I saw a ghost today. I greeted him with a hello, asked him “how’s life?” and made him a sandwich. He did the same for me, minus the sandwich. I was nervous as he watched me cover the bread with chicken, cheese, and peppers. My hands shook, but I did my best to hide it
Meredith Sell 