Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls

by David Sedaris

Their house had real hardcover books in it, and you often saw them lying open on the sofa, the words still warm from being read.

Because I was a few years older, she looked up to me; not so much that it strained her neck, but enough to make me feel that I wasn’t completely worthless.

I should be used to the way Americans dress when traveling, yet it still manages to amaze me. It’s as if the person next to you had been washing shoe polish off a pig, then suddenly threw down his sponge saying, “Fuck this. I’m going to Los Angeles!”

I gave her a little finger wave, the type a leprechaun might offer a pixie who was floating by on a maple leaf.