Sunshine Eschatology
The flight out of La Guardia to Orlando is like the motherfucking United Nations of crying children: Babies of every race and creed, their voices forming a chorus of unintelligible desire, their families scrambling to translate. JetBlue Airways flight #299 puts of the horror of the nuclear family on full display.
Fear not: redemption is on the horizon, only a few hours away. Embedded amongst dozens of families in crisis, we are hurtling towards validation, and perhaps even some semblance of joy. Orlando International Airport proclaims it; a facsimile of Mickey Mouse greets us with open arms.
We’ve made it to the Kingdom...
Fear not: redemption is on the horizon, only a few hours away. Embedded amongst dozens of families in crisis, we are hurtling towards validation, and perhaps even some semblance of joy. Orlando International Airport proclaims it; a facsimile of Mickey Mouse greets us with open arms.
We’ve made it to the Kingdom...
Published in Manifest: A Journal of the Americas issue 2, 2016
Together with Ian Quate/ Other Fields
Full Text
Together with Ian Quate/ Other Fields
Full Text