It’s the late afternoons, when the buildings across from our office fracture the setting sun, that are the hardest to endure. That tender light signals another day without a client, another day without income, and one day closer to giving up this space if we can’t make the rent.
I love our office, all of it. I love the gold lettering on the front window, proclaiming us K&M Ghost Eradication Specialists. I love that we have Malcolm’s old samovar in the window, along with a vintage percolator that belonged to my grandmother, one I’ve recently retired from service. I love how unlocking the door every morning makes all of this feel real.
But when lunch rolls around without a call or email, when I peer through the large bay window and see the bank closing down for the day, it feels as though
