What do you think?
Rate this book


288 pages, Hardcover
First published April 12, 2022
Your average happy person didn't last in Alaska. It was too much work not to die all the time.
I have a radio. Bland, official fuzz from NPR informs me of Obamacare, Social Security, the new Section 8 housing the city is building. I do not know how to do any of this: what forms you fill out, what websites will prove you were alive before you blew off the edge of the world into human vapor. I am fifty-six, and no official trace of me exists.
"Think about it this way," said Benny. "We live or die together." I was nineteen by then and he was the age I am now—sixty-seven. I held on to his words as though they were special to our situation, not an agreement you enter into with every person you ever care about. Even just in passing.
She knew me so well...and still. I knew her so well...and still. Were these twin snowflakes of delusion the only reason we were even married—believing that one amazing day, either she or I would finally do something so unlike ourselves that we would finally make the other happy?
come to my blog!She had a theory about this, a theory that seemed to apply to everyone except herself and her father: Your average happy person didn’t last in Alaska. It was too much work not to die all the time.