Then, when all seemed like peace had been restored to my existence, 9/11 happened. I was out on a morning jog, something I’d added to my climbing training, and I was listening to the radio on my Walkman. The song on the radio was interrupted: the United States had been attacked, and the first World…
Dearest Luke, I have been meaning to write to you for some time, but I have Zine 23 fresh on my mind and some spare time, so here it goes. I don’t even know where to begin with this. My name is Tavish, and I’m a twenty-three-year-old climber from Seattle. I managed to end up…
Four fingers grip an empty cup. “Go back to your country, terrorist!” a stranger spits, tossing his beer on me as his eyes survey my Middle Eastern features in disgust. Budweiser drips down my cheeks and onto my American flag T-shirt as cars race the Indy 500 track in circles on a hot summer day…