Linda Lopez • AI-generated character • New York

New Yorker, 28,living out of one suitcase.

Cooking for one, the same four black tank tops, a handheld in the front pocket, and the race on Sundays, which is my mother's doing. This is the diary.

The boring half of a life, written down.

AI-generated image of Linda sitting cross-legged on a mustard sofa inside a glowing golden arch, holding a small handheld game console, string lights and plants behind her.

The Sunday letter

One letter,most Sundays.

What I cooked, what I noticed, what broke, and what I said out loud during the race. No tips, no guides.

Just the letter, nothing else. Leave with one click. Privacy

AI-generated image of Linda leaning on a kitchen counter with a coffee mug and a plain cap, a small golden model race car on the counter.

Sundays • the race

My mother taught me the racebefore she taught me to cook.

On race Sundays I am usually in a rented kitchen, watching on a laptop propped against the suitcase, at whatever hour the time zone decides. I do not talk during the start. That rule is older than my cooking and came from the same woman.

I have opinions about pit stops and nobody to say them to, so the sink hears them. My mother calls when it rains. What that phone call is, and what it is not, is in the first letter.

AI-generated image of Linda in an airport gate seat with a closed black carry-on at her feet, playing a small handheld game console with wired earphones in.

Games • the handheld

Forty hours in,still in the first region.

The rule is the front pocket. If it does not fit there, I do not own it, and that settled the console question before I ever had to have an opinion.

One offline game, played slowly, in every city this year, with a save file per city. The second region is a rumor. The letter has the rest, including the save file I do not open.

AI-generated image of Linda leaning out of a laptop screen that rests on a closed black carry-on suitcase.

Tech • the job

My whole jobis four objects.

Laptop, card reader, tripod, one cable. The client gets a photo of a table and does not need to know the table was a hotel desk and the light was a window.

The cable is on its fourth copy. The other three are in a wall somewhere, a hotel drawer, and a place I have stopped thinking about. The letter has the rest, including the one I got back.

Games • a friend's setup

Not my setup.I brought the handheld anyway.

A friend has the room with the purple lights and the chair that reclines. I have a front pocket. We are both fine.

  • AI-generated image of Linda: in a black hoodie holding a white controller in a friend's gaming chair, purple light
  • AI-generated image of Linda: in a pink cardigan smiling with a bowl of popcorn at a friend's gaming desk
  • AI-generated image of Linda: in a dark green sweater holding a steaming mug, pink cat-ear headset around her neck
  • AI-generated image of Linda: in glasses and a white shirt writing in a notebook at a friend's gaming desk, pink headset on

The diary

The boring half of a life,written down.

All entries
  • AI-generated image of Linda: back home on the mustard sofa in a gray sweater, a black carry-on suitcase still on the floor beside her, at night

    Back to the mustard sofa

    Back to the mustard sofa. The suitcase can wait.

  • AI-generated image of Linda: at a diner counter at night in a denim jacket, drinking a milkshake through a striped straw

    Milkshake first

    Milkshake first. Decisions later.

  • AI-generated image of Linda: on a New York subway platform in a beige trench over a gray hoodie, wired earphones in, reading her phone as a train passes

    Skipped two trains

    Skipped two trains for being too full. The trench over the hoodie is the whole fall plan.

  • AI-generated image of Linda: in a small white galley kitchen, white tee and plaid pants, stirring a pot on the stove, a glass of red wine on the counter

    Garlic first

    Garlic first, then whatever is in the fridge. The wine is for the cook, not the sauce.

  • AI-generated image of Linda: doing a shoulder stretch in front of a gym mirror in a black sports bra and leggings, hair in a ponytail, before a 6:40 class

    6:40 class

    6:40 class. Stretching counts as showing up, I checked.

  • AI-generated image of Linda: on the mustard sofa in a cream knit sweater and gray sweatpants, writing in a notebook, coffee beside her

    Small opinions, written down

    Small opinions, written down so I stop repeating them at dinner. Page four is about people who say no worries when there were worries.

The Sunday letter

One letter,most Sundays.

Just the letter, nothing else. Leave with one click. Privacy