The Dead
(No, not the James Joyce classic. A much more mundane story from 5 years ago.)
That’s strange, I thought, glancing at the clock. She’s usually up by now.
It was 8 a.m., and I hadn’t heard my daughter rustling around upstairs. (She starts school at 8, but when your first three classes are online in your bedroom, you can wait till 7:55 a.m. to get up.)
“Sweetie?” I knocked on the door and was greeted by the sounds of a teenager crashi…
