I’m the Real Nostradamus: Predictions from My 13 Year Old Self

An envelope arrived at my folk’s home today. The handwriting was unmistakably mine: The characters bunch up in places, rounded letters proceed along wavy edges, and finishing marks run sloppy from a lazily lifted pen. The return address said, “ECMS / Mr. Waite” (in my hand writing). Hmm. Did I write this to myself in… … Continue reading I’m the Real Nostradamus: Predictions from My 13 Year Old Self