I imagine my mother must have felt frightened of all of the deaths she’d have to share with us in the future, the ways she’d have to deliver the news. Our future griefs that she couldn’t protect.

By the time I was seven I knew I was cursed. Lee genetics, it was explained time and again, ensured a certain spasmodic promise, but this was coupled with an alcoholism so severe that a single bottle could destroy whole lives, families—worlds, even. Booze was beyond our comprehension; it was a devil capable of anything and required a veritable exorcism to be expunged.

There’s a dock that stretches out over the reservoir, a straight path that doesn’t quite touch the low-hanging crater moon. It’s beautiful and eerie. I could crane up my neck and let out a lonely howl. That would freak Daniel out, I think, although I’m not the oddest one on this date.