Sometimes I panic about our ecological situation. I’ve gotten better at coping, but still. Sometimes a rogue fact will fly across my field of vision—some well-meaning statistic or off-hand comment—and bang, there it is. “That funny feeling,” as Bo Burnham calls it. The dropping sensation. The O God. It’s going to end. How did I forget? It’s like the anxiety waits until my guard is down and then, when I least expect it, it pounces.

A comedic short story published in Braided Way Magazine.