Two brown dogs
bark to each other.
The first dog asks the second dog,
“Where did my life go?”
The second dog replies, “In heaven,
you will meet
all the ants you killed.”
A thought experiment:
Imagine a moon
waxing until it swallows you whole—
you are small and
it is milky white.
Try to befriend a tree in Orick, CA
and hope that she will save you.
Follow her lead. Try to
plant yourself in the earth, fingers
stretched as roots. Imagine
smiling at the children
who pass you by
with red
bows and nantucket blue hats. Imagine
taking a moment
to breathe.
Thinking about this,
the first dog says to the second dog,
“Have you ever woken up with the realization that you couldn’t be more different from the woman you’ve always hoped to be? I feel like I’ve become a shitty movie cliché and I can’t remember how it happened. Did I do it to myself. Did I make myself the person I am now. How did it get to be this way. Since when did I become a fucking golden retriever. Since when did I.”
The first dog starts to cry and the second dog is silent.
Riya Mirchandaney, CC ‘20, is a neuroscience major, part-time lab rat, and professional private tweeter. You can find her having a crisis—of identity, existence, or confidence—at least once a day. Find her on Instagram here.