From the Archives
Some of our best writing from the earliest days of the shutdown.
Because we became lost teens of the storm, assigned/ to the refrigerator with garbage bags and bleach/ Amid power outages and school closures/ After Hurricane Katrina, we learned to shrug early/ As the city went through its own awkward stage.
My best friend seemed to struggle with whether or not to tell me about her post-Katrina experience in our neighborhood. She settled on, “I’m not talking about people breaking in to try to steal stuff.” At that, I took a seat. She continued, “Here, take my hittin’ stick.”