In the Dream House

When Machado was eight years old, whenever her gym class played baseball, she’d go far enough away in the outfield that no balls would ever reach her. Her gym teacher didn’t seem to notice as she sat out there, ripping out weeds. She would pluck a dandelion and rub it against her chin—if her skin turned yellow, it meant she was in love. Of course, the yellow always rubbed off on her skin.

Looking back, Machado sees that, even as a child, she understood that people “will always be hungry, will always want.” At the same time, the dandelion reminds us that, like those flowers, we are ecosystems, and parts of us constantly die off and replace themselves. When we die, our bodies will contribute to the earth’s ecosystem, feeding other people’s life and hunger. Machado imagines that if you could harness the continuous energy of humanity, “you could do wonders with it.”