The office is nearly cleared. Only a few more papers to sort, then a bit of electronic tidying. It’s time to end one chapter and begin another.

It’s a surreal feeling, one I’ve grown used to these last two years: the loss of something once integral. I’ve watched, fascinated and bemused, as the details of my work have evaporated and trailed off, so many ghost vapors.

I’m in a strange position — disconnecting from one place, not yet connected to another.

Isn’t that what we used to call freedom?