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208 pages, Paperback
First published July 21, 2009
At night I like to do this, imagine the field once we've left it: the deer coming out of the woods, noses working over crumpled napkins, the foxes creeping out onto the trampled paths, sawdust scattering in the wind. It's usually a comfort, knowing the field will recover without a trace of us, just days after we're gone. But there's a danger to picturing a place without you in it. After a while you can start to feel like nothing at all.