Tomorrow's June

Mia has a college degree, a curatorial job practically handed to her, and every reason to walk toward the life she says she wants. Instead, she's watching Kurt love his girlfriend Hannah in daylight and love her in the spaces around it, and she keeps showing up for whatever's left over.

This isn't a story about a woman who doesn't know better. Mia knows exactly what she's doing; she narrates her own bad decisions in real time, clear-eyed and unsparing, and does them anyway. She waits for someone else to release her from Kurt. She waits for Noah, for Andy's strange chivalric devotion, for Miles, for anyone to hand her permission to want something and go get it. Each one leaves her a little less cared for than the last, and she can chart the decline herself, out loud, and still not stop.

Set in Toledo in the unglamorous stretch of a life between college and whatever comes next, Tomorrow's June is about the gap between insight and action and about how long a smart woman can watch herself circle the drain before she decides to climb out. It's messy, funny, self-aware, and true in the way only something lived first can be.