“Nadege, you have to come home.”

“Oh Unc, if you miss me, I’ll buy you a ticket to come see me next time I’m in Oakland for a few weeks.”

“Ah Nadege cherie, you’re not listening to me. You, have to come home. It’s your brother.”

You know that saying, “when the going gets tough, the tough gets going”?

I don’t get going, I make lists.

I was 19 years old when I died. That was a decade ago.

New York in the winter has its charms after all.