There is a zipper merge lane near the interstate exit roughly a mile or so from my house. If you find yourself confused by the phrase “zipper merge lane,” don’t worry, very few licensed drivers in my ZIP Code know…
It is midnight. Not the kind of midnight measured by clocks. The kind that settles into your bones. The kind that lingers long after the sun has risen. We all know this midnight. It is the midnight of the marriage...












