Gender Perfect

When a writing class reveals certain truths

Photo by Gemma Evans on Unsplash

The four of us — my wife, me, my best friend and his husband — share Japanese deviled eggs, smoky bourbons, curry, and ramen. I don’t remember the street or the name of this place, though it’s on Manhattan’s upper east side. We tell stories of work — of privilege and proposed retirement — and we wonder if the upcoming elections will steer us back to the center, or…