Gifts and Omens from the Polar Vortex


The publisher of my memoir thinks comparing my sister to a garbage-eating corvid needs a few anecdotes to support such harsh phrasing. I concede the point. 

When the 2019 Polar Vortex was on its way to Chicago at the end of January, I decided to spend the deep freeze at home, writing about my strange and estranged sister. I opened my MacBook to get started the day before the weather-forced hibernation. But brain cells holding certain memories seemed to have been snatched from my frontal lobe. Perhaps it was the spirit of that plucky crow-sister, disguising herself as my own cognitive decline,…


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