The Online Journal of Writer Kate Sykes
As I sit down to write this, I hear crickets chirping in stereo outside the window of my attic writing studio. Somewhere below, a car floats by, its tires slurping rain from the pavement. My next-door neighbor opens her back door and calls her kids in for dinner. “Ma-ax!” she yells, making it two syllables. She says it twice before they appear with all of their scooters and helmets and bikes in tow. She turns to go back inside and catches my eye. I wave. She waves back. This is life off Facebook. Life actual.