
The Secret to Everything
[First Runner-Up 2018 Proximity Essay Prize] Here in the last slip of rural country near Raleigh, I drive slowly down a gravel road, unsure if I’m going in the right direction. The road gradually becomes dirt: two tire ruts divided by a hump of grass. Sparse rows of pine trees line both sides of the narrow road. I’m a social worker, and I’m making an early morning visit, a new referral to start the day. This one a possible suicide case—I hate suicide cases.