Sitting within the home at night by lamplight, what comparisons did the German people draw? What murmurs from the radio cut through into the room?
Did someone speak the fear aloud: are we like them, is this like now? Did someone else say: No, we live within a different time.
Nina Feinberg is a writer, photographer and distance runner. She lives in Brooklyn, NY and works in user experience design.
In the nursing home, she describes what she’s been up to: floating along the canals of Venice, wandering through the streets of Rome. “I know I’m not, but I think I am,” she tells my mother.
We know she’s there, but we think she’s here, in Maryland with us.
Nina Feinberg is a writer, photographer and distance runner. She lives in Brooklyn, NY and works in user experience design.
Do you need a tissue?
Is everything okay?
Are you a person full of fear about the way we treat each other, just like me?
Do you ever wonder how we found ourselves in offices, checking in and touching base under artificial light?
Can you go home for the day?
Nina Feinberg is a writer, photographer and distance runner. She lives in Brooklyn, NY and works in product design at The New York Times.