 Why have Sara and her father not spoken in over a year?
Divided we stand Sara lets the Lyft park itself in the drive, lets out a sigh, and tweets wish me luck plus some emojis before slipping her phone into a hoody pocket. Mom sighs, shoulders falling, looks at Sara directly. When they part it's Mom's hand that's on the bag's handle. For a few seconds Sara is alone in the hallway, the smell of cooking meat coming from one doorway, the sound of rolling news from another. An elderly couple ride a tandem bicycle through a park, laughing and smiling in Instagram-perfect sunshine, as a calm, relaxing voice lists the potentially lethal side effects of a diabetes drug. Sara turns back to the TV, to watching the war, to trying to work out which one it is. Up until then it just seemed like constant warmth, as though she didn't have any childhood concept of Dad apart from him getting home from work, then her sitting on his knee, eating cookies and watching football highlights until Mom came in and scolded them both for ruining their appetites before dinner. Suddenly there was rap music and nose rings, sneaking out of the house to see her friends and not wanting to go to church. It was constant warfare; every opinion she had became a battle, every decision she made a conflict. Since her second year of school he'd never been to NYC to visit her. She came back when she could face it; sometimes for birthdays, sometimes for Thanksgiving. Dad is in the bathroom, and Sara has had enough of Fox and whichever war this is. In her pocket her phone vibrates, purrs against her skin, reminding her it's there, making sure she's not forgotten where her real friends are, that there's a world outside, beyond Dad and his TV. She takes it out and cradles it in her hands, the dark screen fleetingly reflecting back her face before it jumps awake at her very touch, opening up to bathe her in blue light, in comfort and warmth and the familiar. Every mouthful tastes like nostalgia, and Sara can feel herself being encompassed by a bubble, this barrier of warm air and long forgotten simplicity enveloping her body, protecting her from the confusion of the world outside. Sara works for a non-profit in Brooklyn that helps big organisations to transition to renewable energy. "No one is telling me it, Sara. She doesn't have the heart to tell him she muted him six months ago.
 They have intense disagreements on most political issues.
 Sara attended college in New York and stayed there after graduating.  They have intense disagreements on most political issues.  Sara and her father voted for different presidential candidates.  Sara's father was an authoritative presence during her high school years.