“Your Kids Can Eat at Home,” My Dad Said—So When the Waiter Returned, I Stood Up – The Archivist

with the motion of the waves.

The touchscreen navigation panel—normally alive with charts, coordinates, blinking icons showing our position and course—was dark and dead. A spiderweb of fractured glass shot out from the center of the GPS module, as if someone had taken a hammer to it with deliberate, methodical violence. The radio, the sturdy old-fashioned continue reading …