I’ll never forget the day we met. You were dressed boldly, in orthopedic Velcro shoes, yellow sweatpants, and an oversized Legend of Zelda T-shirt. You completed the ensemble with a green mesh pinny, which you debonairly or mistakenly wore as a necklace, your head thrust fetchingly through an armhole. I was young then. Fresh out of my bulk-order box. I can see myself now as I must have looked to you on that spring day: a gleaming figurine of indeterminate age and gender, gazing alluringly from my plastic podium, my lithe limbs splayed in a vaguely athletic pose, perhaps running, perhaps swimming, or maybe even doing a non-sports thing, like dancing or debate. In any case, my body glinted in the sun like gold.
Although you had signed up for only one event that Field Day—a relay race in which you ran in the wrong direction—you never questioned my presence in your life. When Ms. Musgrove handed me to you and said, “You tried your best,” you pumped both fists in triumph. I’ll never forget how you caressed me with your gentle, Yoohoo-scented hands. When you held me to your chest, I could feel your heart pounding, and, though I knew that it was partly because your body was so unused to exercise, I sensed that there was also something more powerful at play.
Esta historia es de la edición May 29, 2023 de The New Yorker.
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Esta historia es de la edición May 29, 2023 de The New Yorker.
Comience su prueba gratuita de Magzter GOLD de 7 días para acceder a miles de historias premium seleccionadas y a más de 8500 revistas y periódicos.
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TRIPLE FAULT
A meal is never just a meal in a Luca Guadagnino movie; each bite is a prelude to a kiss, every feast a form of foreplay.
NIGHT MUSIC
“Stereophonic” and Cabaret at the Kit Kat Club” on Broadway.
LITTLE OLD HER
Is Taylor Swift doing too much?
BEASTLY MATTERS
Where the logic behind the concern for animal welfare begins and ends.
PULSE
He footed off his shoes, the logs balanced on an arm, and tugged the door shut.
TOWER IN FLAMES
What kind of right is academic freedom?
THE BATTLE FOR ATTENTION
How do we hold on to what matters in a distracted age?
ON NATIVE GROUNDS
Deb Haaland faces the cruel history of the agency she now leads.
DESIGN FOR LIVING
Can converting office towers into apartments save empty downtowns from ruin?
HOROSCOPES WRITTEN BY MY MOTHER
Your zodiac alignment this month is governed by Venus, the planet of intuition, something my daughter Bess seems to lack.