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It was the woman who spoke at Career Day her junior year who convinced Peggy she wanted to major in accounting. Megan Barnes in her conservative suit, shiny blond bob, discrete pearl earrings and sensible pumps positively glowed with poise and confidence. “There is always a place in our field for meticulous, detail-minded professionals,” Megan said, looking right at Peggy. “Everyone says accountants are boring but what’s wrong with being boring?”  

I had been moving towards androgyny as Fin was learning about gender. I told toddler them, “Sometimes I don’t feel like a girl, but I don’t really feel like a boy either.” I taught Fin to call me both Aunt and Uncle and sometimes, Uncle Auntie.

Fin

Katie Kalahan

For a couple of years after the miscarriage, I would occasionally wonder if I should try to find a man who was free to really be with me and try to get pregnant again. Maybe I was making a grave mistake by not creating another person to guide me through my old age and death as I had done for my mother. But a fear of ending up alone has never struck me as adequate justification for marrying or reproducing. And my mother was alone, in the end, despite everything. Probably we all are, regardless of our most frantic efforts.  

Her voice was hoarse when she spoke, her eyes glassy.  Her words were a whisper on the air and if the rest of the world hadn’t fallen away, I wouldn’t have caught them. 

“Because I have no one else to talk to.”  

Traffic Jam

Aiden Ko

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