Kandace

The house I’ve lived in my entire life comes into view. Two-story farmhouse, it’s pretty cliché. The wraparound porch, the outdated rooms. There is nothing smart about it. Dad doesn’t even want gadgets that talk to him. No Google Home or Amazon Echo for him. And yet as my headlights skirt over the white building, I am home.

At twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight, it is time I think beyond my parents’ home. The thing is ...