A cluster of cars would work themselves into a complicated fix, and when the resolution came, in the form of a peristaltic spasm, and the cars burped off in their various directions, you felt like cheering. There would always be kids …. Things are starting to get weird. In the car on the way to lunch I'd been thinking about soldiers, about how long they apparently go without sleep in wartime, and I had been attempting to imagine being this tired and trying not to get killed. Bob, sounding like a … …

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The great sentimental complication | The Dublin Review