Damn Your grandfather says this constantly. He’s a tall, stooped man with pale lips and a thick German accent, and the word comes out like he’s trying to cough something up. You’re six years old before you even realize it’s a word. You want to ask him what it means, but he scares you; he’s kind but he’s loud, and his motives are inscrutable. You find out in Sunday School (which you will attend until…

Socially: I assume this is possible? You hear things. And if you've ever been to a bar, you've seen them: groups of charming, attractive people, mingling together with cocktails in hand, laughing with their whole faces. Sometimes there's touching. They order strange drinks. They are always friends with the band, and no one minds when they dance during the slow slongs. We hate them. We hate their comfortable ease, their conversation, and their eyes…