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A conversation performed as a smooth transaction—a silky back-and-forth without the interruption of reality.
Maybe she was going crazy. At the same time, she knew she would never go crazy—which was worse. She’d been almost jealous of the people she’d known in the city who’d totally cracked up, spiraled into some other realm. It was a relief to have the option to fully peace out of reality.
The appearance of calm demanded an endless campaign of violent intervention.
