I thought maybe I would swing by Madeleine’s house and see if his car was out front. It was either this or begin a career as something other than a writer. If I thought of another career before I got to the house, I would turn around and pursue that. I made the car go slowly so that everyone could see it was thinking. It was considering careers for me. I looked out the windows and tried to see who the pedestrians thought I was when they looked at my car. But they didn’t look at my car; they looked inward. They considered themselves and their own cars; they made love with their hurrying. They
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