Krittika Ramanujan 

We’re going all the way back, son. Pre-contact.

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At the coffee shop everyone was talking about the cold weather. The barista was wearing so many sweaters she felt like a yak. The owner of the pizza parlor was longing for his childhood home in Italy. One of my friends at the table where I sit with not-really retired men said that the pipes in his kitchen froze. I said the same thing had…