Less Is Lost (Arthur Less #2)

by Andrew Sean Greer

Here he stands, our hero, looking around like a man who has grown a mustache and is waiting for someone to notice.

Was the kiss any good? As with every first kiss: good enough.

Wind shakes rain loose from the Spanish moss and it falls on the road like a briefcase of diamonds.

The miles go by, as does a relay race of local radio stations.

That in real life, there are no protagonists. Or, rather, the reverse: It’s nothing but protagonists. It’s protagonists all the way down.

small absurdities, so easily overlooked. And if you have not shared somebody’s tilted view of the horizon (which is the actual world), tell me: what have you really seen?