I moved out of our old house, the one we lived in when you left America. I’m in that one I liked better at the end of our block. It’s right on Lake Michigan, and has an open lot on the south side so the light is stellar. It has a working fireplace, and weirdly enough, it even has a water pump in the backyard. So when—and surely it’s got to be when and not if—the city water system is shut off completely, I’ll have my own water source. And of course, there’s the lake itself for water, although some people claim it has an elevated level of cesium 134. My nearest neighbor who’s a scientist and knows a lot about the half-lives of atoms says that’s unlikely.
I’m also driving a BMW now.
Jill Riddell is a writer in Chicago. She teaches at the School of the Art Institute and has a weakness for nature, magic, and pennies abandoned in sidewalk cracks.