On Looking for Signs

Plus, a few small joys.

I want to believe in signs.

I make a note of 11:11, the finding of coins from specific years, the appearance of rainbows.

My birthday—4:19—visits me often, on clocks and price tags and race bibs. I regularly wake in the early morning hours and before I catch sight of the time, I know what it will say.

Though I’ve built much of my work around interpreting…