Dispatch from a Dry and Thirsty Land


Not so many days ago, en route to town, we ran into heavy, drumming rain. The sky gushed water. The drops bounced on the macadam, joyous, and ran in rivers. The wipers thumped.

“Between this and Kamala Harris,” I said.

“What about Kamala Harris?” asked my husband, over the din.

“Between this and Kamala Harris,” I said. “It’s wonderful.”


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