The Friction of Standing Ground When the Entire World Demands a Rushed Step
CHAPTER 1: THE FRICTION OF WEIGHT The fluorescent tubes overhead vibrated with a low, cyclic frequency that settled directly behind the eyes. It was a sterile, midwestern light, throwing desaturated shadows across the scuffed linoleum floors of the supermarket aisle. The old man did not look up. His thumb, split at the knuckle and grayed…