Dismissed For Lacking A Degree, I Let My Life Speak For Itself – The Archivist

that were already clean, organizing drawers that were already organized. Anything to keep my hands busy, to keep my mind from circling back to the same impossible fact: my son was dead at forty-two, and I would bury him today.

Mrs. Wong from next door knocked softly at seven-thirty, carrying a container of congee she’d made before dawn. “You need to continue reading …