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Disorientation
Alok A. Khorana
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THERE IS SNOW OUTSIDE THE KITCHEN DOOR. It covers the deck in white sheets, unbroken except for the occasional paw print, and it cascades off the steps in thick, soft layers onto the pine trees in our backyard. Inside, our home hums with the usual Sunday evening flurry of activity. My wife is coordinating dinner with homework—both hers and the childrens. In the background, I hear my two-year-old son trying to entice the dog to sit by offering her a treat. This is no small task, given that the dog weighs nearly three times as much as he . . . [Full Text of this Article]

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