My familiars keep me company in my early-morning insomnia. They're like a squirmy, heated, weighted blanket sprinkled with the occasional thumb tack.

This is basically Dunkirk. After that the allies felt hopeless, four years later they crushed them. So will we

Teenage me in 1991, spackling my face to hide my acne.

Teens today, putting a star on their face to announce, "I have a zit here."